Fifth time's the charm
by Singular Poisonous Ashes
Summary: She's been reincarnated for five times already, and to be honest, she was sick of it. Her five lives had been meaningless. All that effort, wasted, in the end. She couldn't achieve anything. She couldn't contribute to anything. And now, as Tsunayoshi Sawada in her sixth life, will that change? - Of course not - It was human nature never to be satisfied, after all.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter one.

It was always disconcerting, when she'd just been born. Everything blurred together and it felt like she was trapped in cement. She couldn't move an inch, and all sounds ended up drowned out behind the rush of her blood making it's gallop through her veins. She'd gone through this exactly five times before. Being born wasn't all it mashed out to be.

Being a baby was much like going through life on those drugs that slowed you down. She felt unwieldy and clumsy, her baby fingers attempting to perform tasks she was far too young for. She'd had about two sets of fathers and mothers throughout her five previous lives; she wasn't always wanted, and sometimes she was born to a single mother, or put up for adoption. This time, she was to have a full set up of parents and relatives to boot. Not many people realized how lucky they were to be born with them.

The reincarnated gurgled happily as she was placed into her fathers hands for the first time in her new life. They were good hands, she instinctively knew, while he automatically adjusted her so she was lying fluidly against his arm, her head supported. Once, she'd been born to a mother who'd wanted nothing to do with her. Most likely because seeing the reincarnated and her resemblance to her father had immediately put the woman on alert. Apparently the mother had committed a taboo having sexual relations with that man, or something.

Father's voice was soothing background sound, what he had said exactly drowned out by her newborn baby ears. He held her greedily in his arms for more than a short while, before finally abiding to sharing her with his wife. The woman was more clumsy with how she handled the reincarnated infant. Mother held the reincarnated infant far too tightly, and then backed of and sent her back to her father's arms after the reincarnated let loose a mew of protest.

Once her new family returned to what was now to be the newborn child's home (Her name was now apparently Tsunayoshi) they were met with crowding well wishers awaiting them. The sudden influx of sound was a bit too much for the reincarnated, who made a fuss, and was then granted the silence she'd wished for in the form of the crib. It had been placed in the corner of her parents room; great, now she she was going to have to experience the repugnant pleasure of sharing room with an active couple.

Eventually, though Tsunayoshi wasn't too sure about the exact passage of time, she was brought out of her crib to be put on display in front of a blob of a man. He was a blob because she couldn't see him all that clearly, though that was probably because the cones in her eyes hadn't been fully developed yet. This man gently stroked his fingertips against her forehead, and then down her wrists. She scrunched up her nose. It tickled.

The man spoke a bit - to Tsunayoshi and her mother, specifically - before leaving. Tsunayoshi was brought back to her crib after he'd left.

Time slipped between her fingers like sand, and Tsunayoshi was left reaching for it. As a baby, she had no way of keeping track of anything, so she mainly used the position of the sun shining through the curtains to clue her on the time. As a newborn, she woke up and went back to sleep at very strange times. Hours became days, days became weeks, and eventually a whole year had passed, and she only knew this because they celebrated her birthday.

Now that her vision had sharpened, she knew who that pink blob was that often visited. It was an old man, his face carved up by wrinkles that came through his old age, and she didn't know his name, outside of the fact that he was meant to be her granddad. As old as she was (a whole years old!) she was now able to babble, and often did. At the moment, she was reaching out for the old man's chiselled cheeks with her pudgy hands.

Her father (who most often carried her) shifted his grip on her waist, and allowed her to reach the other. Tsunayoshi inspected her grandfather in the way she couldn't before. Her sharpened vision caught warm brown eyes, and stolid silver hair, and skin that was firm despite his old age. Those warm eyes tracked how she gave him a once over, and smiled. He directed his next words at Iemitsu as Tsunayoshi had heard was her father's name. "She's very precocious for her age." His smooth tenor voice lifted in approval.

Iemitsu veritable glowed like a proud father should, reaching out to adjust the strap of her dungarees which had been coming loose.  
Tsunayoshi had already found that he was the most amicable towards her, out of her two parents. Iemitsu handled her with care and affection, saturating from his very pore. It was nice being in his hands, were she felt protected and separate from the rest of the world. It was nice not having to deal with the troubles that she was to meet in the future.

In sharp contrast to this, Nana (as her mother was called) handled Tsunayoshi in a way that blatantly displayed her insecurity and lack of experience 0 she'd not had a child before. She was too rough, and didn't seem as intuitively smart of Tsunayoshi's non-verbal signals and cues as Iemitsu. This was not to say that Nana didn't seem fond of her, as she tended towards being just as doting a parent as Iemitsu, but more that she just had no idea on how to treat her child when left on her own. Nappy cleaning still had her wrinkling her nose, and she utterly refused to breast-feed (which Tsunayoshi didn't begrudge her for).

Still, considering all this, Tsunayoshi had come to the consensus that she preferred her father over her mother.

Speaking of her mother, Nana entered the room from the doorway linking the kitchen to the lounge. She walked past the shelves of the bookcases and sank down onto the spot on the sofa next to her husband. Tsunayoshi made a noise of curiosity at her belated entrance, and smiling blandly, Nana handed the infant her bottle instead of quenching that curiosity. Peeved, Tsunayoshi turned her face away and resumed studying the callused palms of her grandfather.

Iemitsu looked up from the conversation he had been holding with the man to grant Nana an acknowledging nod. He gladly accepted the beer that she passed onto him. "Do you want a drink, too?" he offered his beer to the old man. Tsunayoshi cooed at her mother, who wasn't really taking his unintentional snub well. She'd noticed that while Iemitsu seemed to glean on to what she wanted very quickly, he was definitely on the side of inept when it came to guessing the mood of his wife. He seemed as efficient when it came to keeping the old man complicit, so maybe his gift only counted those related to him by blood?

But then, Tsunayoshi didn't know whether this old man was her mothers or her fathers father. Well, it didn't matter, in any case, as long as he still showered Tsunayoshi with his thoughtful attention. She flicked her eyes away from her grandfather's hands and towards the corner where her toy box had been placed. She pushed her head against Iemitsu's upper arm to draw his attention, and when he looked at her, she pointed towards the corner with baleful eyes.

She'd had five tries to practise her non-verbal communication and was sure that she had finally mastered it. Really, Tsunayoshi was more comfortable communicating without words. Considering her lack of control over her vocal cords, this way prevented her from being misunderstood. Even Nana understood her needs if she patted her stomach or yawned or grimaced in pain. Well, alright, maybe not all the time. She didn't blame her.

She toyed with one of her blocks (covered in Japanese symbols, as that was now her ethnic) while the doorbell rang and Nana was forced to get up a second time and this time to answer the door. She entered the lounge with two unfamiliar people in tow. They looked faintly like Nana - large eyes, smooth complexion, willowy builds - and then took their places on the sofa which had as of yet been unoccupied. The man introduced himself first, leaning avidly over the table to get a better glimpse of Tsunayoshi. Apparently he was Nana's cousin, Tsubaki Fukami, and his wife, Rica Fukami. Fukami must hence be Nana's maiden name.

"Nice to meet you," grandfather said, though he ought to already know the person, if he was Nana's father. Probably not, then. "I'm Iemitsu's boss."

There was a beat of silence, before Tsunayoshi began to choke fervently on her own saliva, the block tower she had been building bowled over by the sudden jerk of her elbow. Iemitsu swiftly transported himself across the room to pat her on the back, cooing nonsense words into her ears. Tsubaki seemed torn between helping him, or staying where he was, while his wife sent Nana an understanding glance.

Tsunayoshi's coughing fit soon passed, and some more visitors entered; three of them Iemitsu's friends. Two of them wore rather conspicuous suits, and one of them refused to remove the sunglasses he were wearing, though they were inside. These suited people seemed to defer to grandfather (Father's boss) - maybe they were Iemitsu's co-workers? The third rolled her eyes at the sight they made, before slouching into an armchair fitted close to Tsunayoshi's play corner. Apparently she was one of Nana's close friends.

When the room was full of people, it was apparently gift unwrapping time. Nana made Tsunayoshi sit inside a circle of family and friends, were the presents had been stacked onto the coffee table. "Open Mama's first?" Nana beguiled while batting her long black eyelashes.  
Nana was rather pretty, Tsunayoshi had to admit. When she was handed a present, she painstakingly removed it's orange sparkly wrapping and let her eyes trail over her gift.

Clothing, of course. A cute orange and black chequered yukata - one that was far too big for her, and could probably only be worn when Tsunayoshi reached five years old. There was also a matching pair of slippers, which she could use (how irresponsible). Tsunayoshi allowed Nana to slip them on for her and then tolerated being paraded around the room so everyone could oooh and aaah at the sight of her wearing them. Her last present was a puzzle - one that she, once again, was far too young to even use, since she could accidentally end up swallowing the small pieces when she least expected.

Iemitsu was fine with his boss given Tsunayoshi his gift next. The wrapping was much nicer than the one Nana used (which had been garish) so Tsunayoshi made sure to preserve that too. His gift ended up being a pair of yellow/black chequered gloves with the stitching for twenty-seven on the back of it in orange. That cheered her up, but when she attempted to slip them on, they ended up being too big for her. Tsunayoshi pouted in her grandfather's direction. Nevertheless, she made sure to throw her grandfather a broad smile to show her gratitude for the gift.

The Fukami's were next. The gift ended up being an packet of hair bows for the baby girl and some alcoholic drinks for the parents. Tsunayoshi was satisfied by the gift, though by this time, she was impatient to get it all over with, so she tore the wrapping hastily off. As a one year old child, she didn't have much stamina, after all.

Then it was Iemitsu's turn. Tsunayoshi's small frame was tense with anticipation, as her father left the room, ostensibly to get her present. There was something fishy about it all. When he returned, it was with a plastic bag slung carelessly over his knuckles. He plopped himself down next to her and then laid out the contents of the bag in front of her. Tsunayoshi's eyes widened. It was a very odd selection.

There was movement from the spectators from the corners of her eyes. "That tradition! I thought you weren't planning on it?" Rica asked, pleasantly surprised. Tsunayoshi's father barked out a laugh.  
"I wasn't," he admitted, "But my Nana insisted."  
Everyone then settled down to watch her take her pick. Tsunayoshi trailed her eyes over the selection, and eventually, her fingers as well. Apparently this was a tradition? Did this mean that she was only allowed to keep one item? The one she chose? That was unfair.

From the selection, there was a comb, a pair of scissors, a book, a scythe, a writing brush and an abacus. The fifth incarnation frowned, puzzled. She liked the pair of scissors, to be honest. They were calling to her. But that was rather awkward to choose, considering her audience. She pursed her lips, trailing her lip over her thumb. She didn't like the comb, or the abacus. She briefly considered the book, before also mentally pushing it aside. So a scythe, the scissors, and the writing brush was what was left over. Ugh. Scissors it was. Tsunayoshi bent her small back to pick her favoured item up.

Nana clapped her hands in delight. "My child will be dexterous in the future!" she crooned. She turned to look excitedly at her guests. "Isn't it delightful?" She scooped up Tsunayoshi, who made a mewl in protest, fingers slipping from the scissors which fell with a metallic thud onto the carpet.  
Iemitsu returned the pair of scissors back to it's rightful place; inside the bag, along with the rest of the selection of items.

Then it was time for her real present. Iemitsu handed her a raggedy doll with many different colours and textures. There were mirrors on one side and buttons on another and denim too, and it was a veritable rainbow of blue and black and green and yellow and much, much orange. Tsunayoshi ended up staring at it, dumbfounded, yet mesmerized despite herself. She hugged the doll to herself and gave Iemitsu a heart felt smile. This was a rather interesting present that she hadn't had the luck to ever have before, in her other incarnations.

Iemitsu grinned, pleased as a peacock, that she enjoyed his present the most. Nana seemed torn between displeasure at his non-verbal boasting, and amusement that he would take such joy in that fact. Finally, with one glance towards where Tsunayoshi was playing with the doll, enraptured, she settled with being amused. Mother struck up a conversation with Rica and everyone's attention was successfully diverted from the birthday girl. Tsunayoshi slunk back to her abandoned toy box, doll in tow.

And that was how her first birthday passed.

From then on, it felt to her like she was speeding through life. Before she knew it, she was two years old, than three, until finally, she was able to wear the yukata which had been well cared for in the time in between. In the meantime, now that she could actually walk and could display her cuteness to everyone on the streets, her parents seemed to be in a buying her adorable outfits frenzy. Most of them, she noted, continued the orange colour-scheme she'd somehow accidentally been upholding. Well, with her honey eyes (inherited from her mother) and her tanned skin, she supposed that spring colours did look good on her.

Now that she was older, she'd also been dubbed ready for some increased independence. So now she could often choose how to spend her time as well as choose her own clothing. More often than not, she agreed with her parents choices as she liked them to be happy, and being the obedient child seemed to make them so. Father's boss (who insisted she still call him grandfather) visited the household less and less, which was unfortunate. She liked the dapper old man, and she knew father and mother also looked forwards to his visits.

For now, it was time for her entrance into civility, or maybe just her first day of kindergarten. Tsunayoshi suffered through her mother's continued fussing, as she tutted about the outfit that she had chosen, smoothed her collar about thousand times, and worried considerable about whether she would be fine going or if they should just home school her. Wait, no, the latter was her father's quip from behind them, where he was drinking coffee in the kitchen. At least she wouldn't have to deal with the horrors of school uniforms just yet.

Still, if she remembered correctly, the one she'd been forced into wearing her previous life was mainly so ill fitting because her build had been so different from the people around her (broad shoulders, so the shoulders section was too tight, but a slender waist, so that section was too wide) but now she wouldn't have that problem. Mainly because she was as off petite build as the rest of the elementary schooled were, in Japan.

"Do you want me come along?" Iemitsu asked them, because the school was in walking distance, and Nana was planning on accompanying Tsunayoshi over the journey there.

Tsunayoshi shook her head. "I'll be fine, father. No need to get clingy," and then smiled with amusement when Iemitsu went into his gibbering they-grow-up-so-fast! phase. It was difficult to take him seriously, even though he wasn't the imbecile he presented himself to be for their amusement. Sometimes she disrespected him by mistake. It wasn't difficult to do so.

Eventually, Tsunayoshi and her mother arrived at the school's gate. Nana swept Tsunayoshi into a hug (too tight! Too tight!) before she vacated the area and left Tsunayoshi on her own with a promise to pick her up once school was over.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer; Don't own.

Chapter two  
In Japan, during elementary and high school, a single teacher tended to teach every subject that had to be taught to the class. This was probably why a lot of Japanese children ended up going to cram school, to get some more specialized help, especially considering the textbooks weren't from that good a quality. Elementary school lasted six years, than there was the three years spent in middle school, and the accompanying three years highschool. Only nine of those years were required, but 97% of students stayed on to go to high-school even after those nine years.

Tsunayoshi filtered in her classroom, quietly taking in the over-excited crowd that was made up out of her new classmates. The teacher was already there, a kindly but rather plain looking woman, who was conversing quietly with another woman, probably a teacher from another class. There were far too many kids in the room, in Tsunayoshi's opinion, so their conversation ended up getting drowned out by the avalanche of little-girl and little-boy chatter. Apparently those kids hadn't yet learned the difference between an inside and outside voice.

She took her seat in the middle row, in the hopes of avoiding any attention being placed upon her, like what would happen if she sat in the front row or in the last. There were positive and negative kinds of attention, and Tsunayoshi, through her five other incarnations, knew that both had their disadvantages and advantages. But not getting noticed at all was something Tsunayoshi by far preferred, when it came to children and their inborn capacity of cruelty.

She folded her arms, resting the urge to sketch that was starting to manifest itself in her twitching fingers. Habits were hard to get rid of, and in her previous carnation, she'd ended up being an artist before she'd died due to reasons she'd repressed. She hadn't been the best of artists (to be honest, she'd been pretty damn mediocre) but considering that her previous self had enjoyed it, she'd nevertheless done it. Sighing to herself, she rummaged through her bag for her shiny new books and calligraphy set.

It was ten minutes later that the pale-skinned woman who'd been talking to the teacher disappeared, that the teacher started class.  
She bequeathed them all to create a circle with their chairs, and afterwards clapped her hands briskly and said, "Now, everyone, introduce yourselves!" So that they understood how to, Miss Shino went first.

"I am Miss Mamoru Shino. You'd better call me Miss Shino!" Was that a threat? Piqued, Tsunayoshi leaned forwards on the first two legs of her chair. "My favourite food is dango, and my hobby is playing the triangle. Please tell me more about yourselves!" Maybe not. Disappointed, Tsunayoshi sank back into her chair. Next was to be the girl seated to the left of Miss Shino, who had auburn hair and olive coloured eyes. "I like cats, like my cat Gray! He likes chasing mice, but mom says he's not allowed to. I like pudding too! Nice to meet you all!" She gave a gap-toothed smile.

And it continued from there.  
"My hobby is tying shoelaces and completing rubix cubes! Yeah!" a boy with buckteeth assured.  
"I like flying! But Dad says I'm not allowed! I hate dad!" Another boy agreed.  
It was all rather tedious and Tsunayoshi found herself beginning to nod her head - she was still tired from the reading marathon she had submerged herself in the previous night.

She jolted from her light doze as her name was called, "Sawada Tsunayoshi," and subsequently ended up snapping her head back, the back of which collided with her chair. She couldn't prevent a muttered curse from escaping her lips, and the children seated closest to her gasped.  
"She called out a _filthy_ word!" The mousy looking girl at her left accused in an excited thrill.  
"She did! She did! A curse word!" the other at her left laughed, happily scandalized.

And thus, the situation deteriorated from there as Tsunayoshi was thrust forcibly into the spotlight as that bad-girl-who-swears. She was given a scolding by the teacher, in full view of the freaking class, and everyone was giggling at her humiliation. More importantly, she'd probably been stamped into their minds - there was no way she could continue unnoticed now. She mentally bemoaned her bad luck while apologising to the class, as she'd apparently otherwise have to stand outside in the corridor, balancing a bucket on her head. _What is that I don't even-_

Honestly, most everyone there had probably heard worse words at home! It didn't even affect them, so why did Tsunayoshi have to apologise?  
Tsunayoshi seethed silently as the last child finished introducing herself and the last few sniggers petered of. She could not abide with how she'd been treated. Once she was home, she was planning on having her dad do something about the school regulations, or rather, the way the teacher educated, at once. Iemitsu was practically a miracle worker in her eyes, considering how he'd often managed to persuade others to his will.

She liked that about her father, even if she couldn't help keep underestimating him when it concerned different things.

So it turned out, over the course of the day, that the subjects the students were to study were Japanese, mathematics, science, social studies, music, crafts, physical education and home economics. Asides from that they were also to learn calligraphy and how to create a haiku. Tsunayoshi, while placing her tools onto her desk, wondered whether those two subjects could be taken to be a part of Japanese, since they concerned the Japanese language. She was almost tempted into lifting her hand and asking the teacher, who'd surely answer, but decided not to. No need to draw even more undue attention to her when she already knew she was the laughing stock of the class.

She drew back her brush, which was dripping with ink, and pushed her thumb to her lips in quiet contemplation. Though she'd tried her very hardest to imitate the shapes that the teacher had drawn, she now surveyed a smudged caricature of it. There was a shift in the air currents near her, and Tsunayoshi looked up just as her teacher stopped at her shoulder, and glanced down at her calligraphy.

Apparently Tsunayoshi had made a very bad impression on her, because Miss Shino seemed wholly surprised of her apparent expertise, commenting,"That's great! I can how much you've practised." Actually, Tsunayoshi thought with a sceptical glance at Miss Shino, that was wrong. She hadn't practised at all. The teacher had said all this in a very loud volume, and Tsunayoshi could feel the burn of gazes drawn to her. She ducked in her head, hiding her resentful expression from Miss Shino, who wasn't to blame.

As the hour came at a close, she could hear mutters of discontent which kept growing whenever the teacher lavished Tsunayoshi with praise for her quick uptake of the curriculum. Apparently the swearing incident had brought her waaaaayyyy low in her classmates' esteem, and it was difficult for them to swallow that she had turned out to be actually competent. It mean that they were in the wrong for judging her that quickly, and nobody wanted to be in the wrong.

After calligraphy class, it was time for lunch, which the school was responsible for during both elementary and middle school. Her first school day was already more than half done, and Tsunayoshi hadn't made any friends. Sighing to herself, she joined the queue where a girl with her hair tied in pigtails was dishing their meal up. A school lunch was apparently made out of stew, boiled vegetables, a sandwich and salad. A carton of milk was included, but the meal looked pretty meagre to Tsunayoshi, especially considering the students were made up of rapidly growing children who needed their meat.

Apparently it was normal in Japan for a student to eat their lunch inside the classroom, but Tsunayoshi didn't want to be alone with the pack of starving wolves her fellow students were rapidly turning out to be. So, instead, she climbed out of the window and settled down onto the sakura tree at the other side when nobody was looking, then tried a bite of her lunch, made a face, and got rid of everything from her plate except for the carton of milk.

However, all good things had an end, and by the time she'd began to doze of again, Miss Shino noticed her absence and decided it best to take a peek out of the window to see whether or not Tsunayoshi had misunderstood her instructions to stay inside and had gone to play outside. She was met with the sight of her missing student balancing on the rather thin branch of the cherry tree outside of the building and panicked.

"Sawada-chan!" The brunette leaned over the window sill, spreading her arms wide, "You can come down now! Jump in my arms! I promise I won't let you fall, and we'll find the bad person who put you there, okay?" Tsunayoshi shook her head at Miss Shino's wild embezzlement of why she was on the tree. She decided not to complain, though. It was obvious that Miss Shino was a bit unstable, and she didn't want any accident to occur just because she wished to stay on the tree for longer. So she leaned forwards to place her palms onto Miss Shino's, who cautiously dragged her inside and then shut the window behind her, for good measure.

"Was that scary?" Miss Shino ended up asking, sinking down to be on the same eye level as her. "You can tell me - it's alright to be scared." Was it awful that the corner of Tsunayoshi's lips twitched as she hastily attempted to repress the amusement she was feeling regarding the misunderstanding that had occurred? It was, wasn't it. Tsunayoshi couldn't help it though. Miss Shino seemed at a loss at what to do when Tsunayoshi's fingers began to tremble in her effort to subdue her incoming histrionics. Too late - she couldn't hold it in any longer.

Tsunayoshi burst in mirthful laughter, slapping her knee, her eyes creasing at the hilarity. Miss Shino seemed taken aback, her lips forming a smooth oh of comprehension, brown eyes enlarging. The same person who'd tattled on Tsunayoshi swearing decided enough was enough. The mousy looking girl called Hitomi drew a trembling hand at Tsunayoshi like it was her sword and she'd just thrown down the gauntlet, and accused, in unconscious little-girl cruelty. "She climbed out by herself! I saw, I saw! Right, Hikaru-kun?" She turned her pretty face at her friend, who stood at her elbow with the solemn loyalty of a knight defending his castle. He gave a sober nod at her behest, even though he'd rather obviously not seen it.

But it was their word against her own, and considering Tsunayoshi's outburst of hysteria, Miss Shino wasn't about to listen to her (especially considering the kids were correct, even if unconsciously so.) And so, Tsunayoshi was made to stand outside in the corridor while holding onto a bucket weighing her down, public shame her gift for just wanting to eat on her lonesome. Man, childhood was the utter worst.

Well, at least there were still ten minutes until the school day ended. Tsunayoshi sighed again, heavily this time, and her shoulders dropped with the gust of air. It seemed she was just cursed to be noticed no matter who or what time she was in, and be the object of ridicule or unwarranted praise which just caused the ridicule. She heard the swish of a door sliding open, some meters away from her and her classroom, before her gaze (which had dropped to the floor) caught sight of new feet making it's way into her line of vision.

"Aha, you were also sent out?" the stranger asked, his voice jovial and quite low for a sixth year old. She dragged her gaze back upwards and inadvertently gave the stranger a once over. It was a boy, who seemed to be her age. He seemed quite nondescript with his Japanese clothing and Japanese hair and Japanese colouring. Nope, nothing unique or rather, individual, about this kid. He was smiling though, in that open way that foreigners had, and that gave him a strange charm. On anyone else, it might have looked like savage baring of teeth.

"I'm Takeshi Yamamoto," he introduced himself with an incline (and no more than that) of his head, and she was forced to answer in kind with the politeness her mother had been partly successful in beating into her.  
"Sawada Tsunayoshi," she said, and then hesitated, her curiosity coming to fore. "And- why were you made to stand in the corridor?"  
Takeshi seemed to ponder his answer, before holding his head at an angle, and smiling again.  
"I don't know. Why were you?"

He seemed sharp, this guy. But there was something about his smile that put her at ease, that disarmed her. Maybe the resemblance to Iemitsu?  
She decided to tell him. "I didn't want to eat lunch in front of other people, so instead, I slunk out of the room and onto a cherry tree, to eat my lunch there." Her stomach growled as if to remind her that she'd thrown it away instead, and she rubbed it absently, intently watching Yamamoto for his reaction to this.

"Ah, I see!" Yamamoto considered, rubbing a hand underneath his chin as if he were some detective out of some old movie who'd just deciphered the purpose behind the crime. He could have said "Eureka!" and that pose wouldn't have been amiss. Despite herself, she felt the corners of her lips once again twitching.

She was getting impatient, shifting so that her bucket was no longer rubbing against her knees and was instead being supported by her left hip.  
"Spit it out." She vaguely threatened, the _or else_ silent but in her inaudible cues.  
He let a huff of laughter escape him at her petulant actions, but decided that he'd held her too long in suspense.  
"My dad gave me some sushi to share with my friends, so I gave Tomoe-kun some. I didn't know he was allergic."

He laughed, sheepishly scratching the back of his head, and didn't seem very bothered that he'd triggered an allergic reaction in someone he saw as a friend. Tsunayoshi gave him the side-eye. That was just wrong. "Why are you laughing? Shouldn't you be feeling guilty?" She didn't feel that bothered, though. Mainly just curious. She gave him her undivided attention

Yamamoto lazily shifted his arms so they were cushioning the back of his head. "Why would I? It was an accident, after all." Yes, Tsunayoshi thought to herself, but that sort of cold logic didn't have any place in the affairs of friends and whether you've hurt them or not. Or rather, usually it didn't. She gave him an appraising look. This one was one to look out for.

"So, do you want to be my friend?" Yamamoto asked, all of a sudden, and leaned over to beguile her with his eyes of brown gold. Now he reminded her of her mother. A natural smile spread across her cheeks as she realized that today hadn't been a total waste, after all.  
"Of course. If you call me Tsuna," she replied, before the bucket slid from her grasp, and she had to quickly drop down before it would meet the floor and the racket would unleash the hounds of hell - i.e. their teachers.

She was still smiling when the bell signifying the end of the school day finally rang and the two of them hurried back in their respective classes to gather their things. Mother even noticed her good mood when she met the woman just outside of the school gate. Apparently it was rare for Tsuna to be in such high spirits. "Hey," she tugged on mother's sleeve, and the woman looked down, a smile in her honey eyes. "Do you know anything about a local sushi place called Takesushi?"

"Why yes," Nana said, taken by surprise. Why would a child want to know anything about a sushi place that she hadn't even ever eaten?  
"Then, can you take me there sometime?" Tsuna asked, looking up with grave eyes to show her mother how important this was to her. Nana noted that Tsuna didn't bother elaborating behind this sudden wish.  
That was her daughter, always so stubborn. She exhaled in amused exasperation, and patted her daughter's shoulder.  
"Whenever you want, Tsu-kun."

It took them only about ten minutes to reach home. Tsuna walked in, bouncing on the balls of her feet, simply radiating the energy of youth. She launched herself at Iemitsu, who easily caught her, chuckling at the pleasant surprise of his daughter's renewed enthusiasm. And so it occurred that she prattled on about her school day (oh, and she didn't forget to lodge a complaint against Miss Shino, which he took very seriously, to her delight) and talked about her first real friend (in that incarnation) and how his father owned a sushi bar that she wanted to eat from as Yamamoto had strongly recommended.

"Takesushi?" Iemitsu rolled the name over his tongue, contemplative. It sounded faintly familiar - they'd probably already eaten sushi there before. Tsuna fervently agreed to the suggestion that they eat sushi tomorrow before she retired to her room to play with her toys. The raggedy doll was still her favourite, and she went to bed every night with the doll grasped tightly in between her arms. It helped her stay in the present.

A/n So this was their first meeting. Anyway, I give you guys the choice - either I update like I am now, until I can't anymore and it'll take me many months to get back in the groove, or I update weekly and with more stability. Your choice.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer; don't own.

Chapter three.

She was back in school again, and a week had passed since her first meeting with Yamamoto. Miss Shino's opinion of her had truly ended up down the toilet, especially considering measures had been taken against her, and now there was a supervisor in class to keep an eye on the woman. It was an unfortunate fact that Namimori Elementary had a shortage of teachers, so they took on whoever they could. And it was also the only reason the woman was still teaching.

Of course, Tsuna might have felt remorse for causing such a situation to happen, except that Miss Shino treated her with unacceptable coldness - apparently it had been leaked that she was the reason behind her problems with the school. While she couldn't really be anything but fair with the supervisor keeping an eye on the proceedings, she would nevertheless never praise her as before, or treat her with any kind of warmth.

At least the class vitriol had mainly cooled down, now that her classmates didn't have to worry about competing with her over Miss Shino's kindness.  
Well, that wasn't completely true. The mousy girl had decided to make it her business to get into Tsuna's business.

She would trail after Tsuna with suspicious looks aimed at her back, as if Tsuna was somehow untrustworthy. It was especially annoying during PE, where Hitomi could let out her frustrations at Tsuna through a physical way, and since she was only being irritating and a bit more rough than usual during play, Tsuna couldn't exactly call her out for bullying.

It was very frustrating that Tsuna's whole plan of staying unnoticed had gone down the drain. She still hadn't made a friend in her class, either, which was unfortunate, considering she spent some six hours in it and the time would pass quicker if she had a friend to spend it with. In the meantime, she did have Yamamoto to look forwards to, though since they were in different classes, they also barely saw one another.

This would be alright if she'd had any free time to spend with him outside of school, but it was an unfortunate fact that she didn't. The amount of homework she had was monstrous, and Nana insisted that Tsuna study and get good grades, and would even supervise her while she did her homework like Miss Shino was being supervised.

It was a bit degrading, actually, since Tsuna had never been treated in such a manner before; like she couldn't be trusted. It was infinitely more hurtful than being stalked by Hitomi due to the girl's believe that Tsuna was untrustworthy and was just biding for an excuse to do something illegal.

Of course, Hitomi was a six year old, so what she saw as illegal and what Tsuna did was also rather different, like how Tsuna swearing that one time was apparently akin to blasphemy in her eyes as to a devout follower of some obscure cult-like religion. Of course, that may be a bit of an over-exaggeration; Hitomi seemed to enjoy the social faux pas' Tsuna had committed over the course of the previous week, and not take them personally.  
It's just that she seemed to be of the belief that these faux pas' are critical, or something.

Tsuna didn't really know. Hitomi was unfathomable as she was an actual six year old girl and Tsuna had long ago lost the right to call herself among them - even if her impulses were predominantly the same as she matured at the same pace as one. Even if she did have the mind of an incarnated being, that still meant her brain wasn't fully developed, as matter was often more important than the mind, no matter how that saying goes. Her impulse control, for example, barely existed and she was just as likely to do some really stupid things on a whim as an actual six year old.

Case in point, what Tsuna was doing now surely counted.

She bit hard into the soft inner tissue of her right cheek, trimmed nails unable to bite through the firm texture of her little-girl palms, not that she wasn't trying. Somehow she'd managed to start a fire because she'd been stupid enough to believe herself old enough to begin to teach herself cooking. It was plastic that was on fire, and plastic committed a poisonous gas, and her mind was painfully blank as to how to prevent the fire from spreading. Yes, she was mainly screaming on the inside, frozen on the out.

It wasn't truly the stove's fault (though now and forever, Tsuna would feel a shiver of unease crawl down her spine while operating it) but mainly her own impatience. Nana had gone to visit her cousin for a few days in an attempt to regain the closeness they'd had when they were young and that meant Tsuna had been left alone with her father. Now, normally, that would make Tsuna absolutely ecstatic. There was but one thing; as efficient and pragmatic he seemed outside of matters dealing with the household, he was truly incompetent within them.

Her father couldn't cook, he refused to iron their clothing, so Tsuna had been forced to parade around with wrinkled clothing for the past two days when at school, and, more importantly, Tsuna was sick and tired of take-away. It was greasy and made her sick; like, physically sick, as this body of hers wasn't used to the increase in fat intake as Nana only cooked super healthy meals for the family. She couldn't believe her previous penniless artist self had lived on take-away. The stuff was wrong in every way.

And that was what had brought her to her predicament, leaving her staring at the fire as she anxiously curled into herself and didn't know what to do. She'd managed to get oil in the pan, so she couldn't throw water over the fire, now could she? It would just cause the fire to spread even more as the chemical would end up more diluted, and as it diluted, the volume of fuel for the fire would have increased. Also, she didn't even know whether the fire would peter out through the usual means because, well. She had been the one who'd produced it.

It had happened in a flash; Tsuna had been turning the dials of the stove this way and that, as she didn't know which way would produce gas. Eventually she had heard the sound of gas gushing out, so had come to the correct conclusion; she needed to turn the dials clockwise. Now, this gas wouldn't have been harmful as it was; she only had to put the flame close to it, so she'd frantically clicked the lighter to get it on, little-girl impatience acting as her bane. But it would not come on! Fire didn't appear!

So Tsuna had been just ready to chuck the lighter into the garbage bin. She hadn't of course, she wasn't a complete idiot. She came close though.  
Instead, she'd just stood there, about ready to throw a temper tantrum, about ready to sob, and honest to god flashbacks of all that take-away came to mind and she remembered how the previous spotless house was covered in take-away boxes... well, she just couldn't take it any longer. In a way that would probably end up being a spot of discontent and embarrassment for years to come, she... well, she... she'd snapped.

And it had been a flash that had burned her eyes like the sun did when she wasn't ready to wake up yet. C_urse her transparent orange curtains_.

And now she stood before her mess - the initial burn had set the pan on fire, yes, but the sparks of the aftermath, once she'd regained her composure, had put the garbage bin on fire. And the garbage bag, was, like, plastic. _Yeah._ She was in so much trouble. The jingling sound of keys being pushed in the lock was absolute bliss, as was the sound of that door being pushed open. She immediately ran to the hallway, hands gesturing wildly, cheeks all a flush and eyes all a-glaze with unshed tears. "Dadddyyyy!" _What the hell._ She hadn't even know her tone could rise in such a high pitch.

She stumbled over to Iemitsu, who was now looking rather concerned, then tripped over her own shoelaces. He caught her by her waist, throwing her in the air into his arms. "What can I do for my dearest daughter?" he asked her, his voice uncharacteristically grave.  
"D-daddy," she sobbed, and pointed fitfully towards the lounge. "I set fire to the kitchen."

Understandable, it took him a beat of silence to understand what she'd meant, but then he was squatting down, smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks; "Go outside for now. I'll see what I can do." And then, giving the crown of her head a kiss, he sent her off like some hero out of a cliché shounen anime taking his last stand. That unlocked a rather hysterical wet burst of laughter from her; she laughed at the strangest of things, but apparently mainly when it was most unwise, and she somehow made her way outside and onto the pavement.

She was called in not five minutes later; her father had dealt with the fire in that little a time, when she'd been standing there staring at it, petrified, for over a quarter of an hour. It was difficult repressing the urge to sink into the floor, or since that wasn't possible, to hide her flushed cheeks into her father's stomach as if she were an ostrich in denial. Ugh. What a mess she'd made. It was too degrading having acted her age.

Her father, meanwhile, was kind enough that he didn't ask how the kitchen had gotten on fire. Thank god. She didn't know how she would have been able to explain the whole incident without sounding crazy, and she wouldn't have been able to lie, not to this body's father. He was frowning, however, and seemed unusually clingy even for him, before apparently deciding that holding a phone conversation while clinging onto his young daughter was best.

Tsuna was met with the distinct feeling that she'd freaked her father out; but in what way? These sort of accidents tended to happen if you left a six year old alone for over an hour, so honestly, there was nothing to freak about. Maybe -no, it couldn't be. Tsuna shook the cobwebs out of her mind, from where she was sitting on her father's knee. Surely Iemitsu did not know that what had happened, what she had caused, was some freak supernatural occurrence?

The idea didn't sit well to her and she ended up fussing, until her father sat her down next to him, so he wasn't distracted while making his phone call.  
Because she'd never had good experiences with people who knew she was supernatural. Her incarnation was a secret she held close to her heart; it was as vital to her as the organ was and just as necessary to her continued life. As one could exist, but not live.

She'd had friends who'd said they understood before, but also, so many enemies.  
And never family. Because family, most of all, only saw one another through rose tinted lenses that should never break, because otherwise, they could cause wounds that bled and bled and bled without even touching you.

Family made you the strongest in the world, but also the weakest, because their praise left you floating in clouds, and their disappointment brought you back down to earth. That's why the incarnated had always tried to make the best of her relationships with those unrelated to her as she could, because she knew, most of all, that being too attached to family and the idea of which was a bad thing.

Iemitsu hung up the phone, and she startled, so deep in her thoughts (her worries about the future) she'd neglected to listen in. He turned to her, his face as soft and malleable as ever, and he told her that they would soon be expecting a visit from 'Nono,' or granddad as she knew him. "Oh," she replied, and pushed her head into the soft premium leather of the sofa. "Will- am I going to get punished?" she curved her head to nod towards the open window, which had been left open to get rid of the smoke stinking up the place.

Iemitsu rustled her hair, a measure to bring her at ease. She knew all his tricks. "Of course not. You didn't do anything wrong. Just -the lighter was out of fluid." His dark eyes put her on edge as much as they held her in place. She squirmed, shamefully. If he knew about the fire, though, maybe he also knew how exactly she'd been able to use it? Maybe then she could prevent it from coming to fore, like in the kitchen, as surely it would now that it had been unlocked. Abruptly it dawned upon her that the fire may be lit at anytime, and that meant that she could hurt someone, at any time.

This fact took her breath away, had her hyperventilating, and Iemitsu immediately noticed the switch in her. He back a way to give her more space, more space to breathe, but that was the exact wrong thing to do. Oh god, what if he'd backed away from her because he knew that she would let loose some of those flames again? The panic galloped through her bloodstream like some wild unfettered stallion, and then, just like before -it happened.

The flame licked her palm, it spread from there, greedily climbing up from her palm to her wrist and further still, until it enveloped even her elbow.  
Iemitsu was mouthing something to her, but he seemed so unsure as what to do, so insecure, and the snap-crackle of the fire was so loud, she couldn't process anything. This fire could ruin everything.

So she did what she'd always done when things became too much -she fled. She was out of the window and tearing through the street before Iemitsu could even blink -never had she been able to run this fast. The flames were still there, but at least they weren't spreading no longer. Maybe, Tsuna thought in macabre humour, the flames would be satisfied with her arm and then the rest of her body and nobody else would need be hurt. And then Tsuna would just reincarnate again, good as new. Though, she would miss her Yamamoto however.

She was amazed, once she came back to herself, that nobody on the streets had even noticed anything out of the usual. Nobody had stopped her. There had been no hysteria or people frantically calling an ambulance or the police over a possible suicide nutcase who was running around on fire and not even attempting to stop, drop and roll. Instead, she sat beneath the slide of the park, hugging her knees to her chest. She absently noticed that it had been raining earlier, or someone must have spilt their lemonade or alcohol or whatever, because her bum was getting soaked from the wet grass.

The flames had left her arm -apparently making her have a freak out was enough of a sacrifice to them to let her go, this time. She stared out in the distance, where a strange black suited couple were sitting on a bench, with vacant eyes. She didn't know how long she stayed there, but by the time she decided to come out of her hidey-hole, the sun was already down.

She also noticed that those strange black suited people were still on the bench, as still as statues. Maybe they'd had a freak out as well but their freak out was to find out they were vampires and that was why they wore all black, to protect them from the sun. Tsuna snorted. That was stupid. Everyone knew black absorbed the sun and that it was white which reflected.

Tsuna decided to go home.

She came home only to find that her granddad had already arrived. She interrupted them in the middle of a discussion, not having bothered to knock to be let in because she knew Nana kept the spare key, without Iemitsu's knowledge, underneath the flower pot. Iemitsu was very particular about things like that, so he wouldn't have abided it if he knew.

"Sweetheart," Iemitsu cooed and held out his arms like he was the child and she was the parent. Her lips twitched despite herself, though she couldn't get her eyes to beam delight at him like usual. The lids felt heavy and she yawned. She was very tired; she'd tired herself out with her roller-coaster of a mood whiplash. Father was also less insistent about bed time, so for the last two days, she'd been staying up until the early hours of the morning, and she did mean the morning.

So she crawled into his arms and then laid her head upon his shoulder and she was rocked to sleep. She thought she felt a light touch on top of her forehead, and a cooling sensation like an egg was being cracked on top of her head. It was a nice sensation; very different to those out of control flames she'd been emitting beyond her control.

A/n I just had to update, even though I was planning to take a week... ugh, I don't want to burn myself out! But it seems I'm heading that way. It's five o'clock in the morning for me, for fuck's sake.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer; Don't own anythin' except plot.

When she woke up, granddad was gone. A month later, so was her father. Of course, she did not take this sitting down. She pulled a temper tantrum that blew all previous temper tantrums out of the water. She kicked and she screamed and she threatened to set the kitchen on fire a second time. Speaking of which, Nana had started chuckling when Iemitsu told her about the incident. Apparently Tsuna had inherited her mother's skill of laughing when it was most improper.

If she'd still been traumatised about the whole_ I'm-a-torch_ incident, she probably wouldn't have done that. But she'd been in as much emotional havoc as those times she'd set fire to the kitchen and herself, in that order, and yet there hadn't even been a spark. In exchange for that, though, she seemed to have become unpleasantly clumsy. That was fine though - Tsuna was delighted the flames couldn't make their reappearance, even if she did have to deal with the scrapes and bruises that occurred when she tripped over her feet the nth time.

If they didn't know better, people would probably think she was being bullied at school.

"And so that's what happened. It is horrid. Father can't be serious when he said he'd be gone for a year, right?" Tsuna questioned her friend, fingers tightening around the shackles of the swing. Yamamoto tilted his head like an inquisitive owl.  
"He does this often?" he asked her with those endearing golden brown eyes of his. Curse those eyes.

Tsuna shut hers, and rubbed the bridge of her nose to ward off an incoming headache.  
"That is not the point," she pointed out before she jumped from the swing, pushing of with a twist of her hands.  
She began to prowl like an agitated woodland creature in front of the swing set. Maybe a chipmunk. She'd always liked chipmunks.

"Ah, well, maybe this'll help put your mind off of it," Yamamoto suggested amicable. He presented her with a book like it was the holy grail, and seemed just as expectant that she would see it that way as well. Tsuna walked over, glancing down at the title, and then her brows disappeared behind her spiky fringe. Because, in a lot of ways, Iemitsu acted like a foreigner, and Nana went along with it, Tsuna had been rather socially awkward because she'd had barely any clue as to what the social customs were. The book was a guide on that.

"Mmh? This is for doing business," she complained, though she did not give him the book back, honey eyes peeled on the third page.  
"I know," Yamamoto agreed with a quirk of his lips, "It's my dad's copy."  
Why would he even be walking around with his dad's books? Seriously, Tsuna would never be able to fully understand him.

She nevertheless squatted next to him on the grass so that he could read alongside her. They swiftly found out that, "Saving face is crucial in Japanese society." That was very true even for Tsuna, who hated being put on the spot - her pride wouldn't allow it. Next was- "Face can be lost, taken away, or earned through praise and gratitude." That was very interesting, but not something Tsuna didn't already know.

Tsuna flipped forwards a few chapters and stopped at gift giving etiquette. "The ceremony of presenting the gift and the way it is wrapped is as important-sometimes more important-than the gift itself." It was quoted. Huh. Then her insistence to keep the wrapping was also a Japanese thing?  
-somehow, Tsuna doubted it. She was just trying to identify with a nationality when she didn't even have one, considering all the times she'd been reincarnated in different nations. Maybe she just wanted to feel like she belonged, but this book wouldn't help her with that. She shut it with an air of finality, thoroughly thanking Yamamoto because he'd just been trying to cheer her up.

They left the park soon after.

It was a year later. Iemitsu had returned when he said he would but it was with some strange kid in tow. A kid who was prematurely greying, who's posture was puffed up and proud, who's stride hid an inner instability.

"Hi, Tsuna-chan!" Father said, waving rather manically while the two children eyed each other with scepticism from across the coffee table. He gave the boy a push. "This is Hayato. Hayato, this is my daughter." Tsuna took note of the lack of honorifics, and her expression quickly soured. When Hayato rather reluctantly extended his arm for a handshake, she flatly turned it down with a tilt of her nose.

.Tsuna didn't want to anything with the boy. Since he'd appeared after father's year long disappearance, it was probable that he was the cause. She didn't want anything to do with him, that was all. So she went through the motions after her mother sent her a disapproving look, (oh please, Nana was just as taken aback as Tsuna was) and cordially bowed. He was in Japan, so he should learn their customs.

After a quick glance at Iemitsu, he awkwardly imitated her, his spine stiff, back ram rod straight. "Nice to meet you, Hayato," Tsuna said, and felt vindictive pleasure rush through her as the foreigner didn't even process what an insult that was. She collapsed into the fine leather sofa and folded her arms together. The kid followed her example.

"Who is he?" Tsuna questioned, turning her head so that she was avoiding the kid's gaze. "Why's he here?"  
And Iemitsu answered, humour shining from his eyes; "He's here as your present. A souvenir from Italy."  
Obviously that had to be a joke, right? Tsuna sent the Italian another, more thorough once over.  
He seemed as unimpressive as just another kid she would come across outside on the street.

Hayato spluttered and immediately protested against that label. "I'm not!" It was kind of adorable that he was trying to defy his fate so.  
Tsuna decided to go along with it and gave her father an accepting nod. "I'll take care of it well."  
"Oy," Hayato snapped, "You'd better not be talking about me."  
The corners of her lips began to twitch, and she locked her hands beneath her chin, giving him a flat look.  
"Who else could it be but you, Ha-ya-to."

He made to lunge for her, only for him to be jerked back into his seat by his collar. Neither of them had noticed Iemitsu's actions until it was over, but he was smiling sharply at Hayato, who twisted himself sideways to peer up at the man like a deer mesmerized by an incoming car. She pitied him for .nano seconds before reminding herself that he'd been about to lay a hand on her. All sympathy promptly fled.  
"If you ever try hurting my daughter again," Iemitsu chirped brightly at the helpless child in his grasp, "I'm sure we both know you will regret it, and we don't want for that to happen, hmm?"

Hayato, voice pitifully high pitched and strangled, swore he never would. He was much more subdued for the rest of the evening, after Iemitsu let go of his collar and rested back in his seat again. Admittedly, Tsuna felt as taken by surprise by Iemitsu's actions as Hayato surely did. Sure, she'd known that Iemitsu likened himself to a knight and this household his holy grail, and that he would fight any dragon to protect him, but she didn't know he'd go through such measures. Hayato was only a kid, after all, and probably not much older than Tsuna herself was. And it just wasn't right to threaten a child like that when a few words of chastisement were all that was needed.

But then again, Tsuna had no clue as to why Hayato was there. For all she knew, the child was actually some child murderer who'd been released into Iemitsu's care, and his rough treatment of the kid was the only thing possible of keeping him from going on a killing spree. Tsuna felt a giggle escape her before she could suppress it and the look Hayato sent her was so heartbreakingly betrayed, that the giggle quickly turned into the laughter that at her school she was infamous for.

"S-sorry," she snorted, trying to get herself under control. Iemitsu wasn't helping, leaning over the coffee table to give her a quick pat of approval. Ah, Iemitsu, and how she'd missed him. That thought was at least enough to help her choke down any more snickering that sought to escape, and she cleared her throat, quickly growing subconscious by how Hayato wouldn't avert his eyes and that look from her.

It was fortunate mother wasn't there. Nana was still a rather unfathomable person to Tsuna, but she knew that she wouldn't have approved of either of beloved's actions, even if Tsuna's at least, hadn't been meant maliciously. It had been rather hard living with her for that year that Iemitsu had disappeared - ostensibly for work reasons but Tsuna called bullshit - mainly because Iemitsu had always acted as a crutch between the the two of them. He'd put a cork on her mother's hefty expectations, and at the same time, he ensured that Tsuna wouldn't start resenting her mother for them.

"But, like, seriously. Why's he here?" Tsuna reiterated, trying to drag the conversation back to the matter at hand. Because that was still bothering her. Her mind immediately decided she hadn't been feeling stressed enough right after and spat out a distinct possibility. Tsuna choked on thin air, as the possibility that Hayato was her father's love child occurred to her. She wildly shook herself to get that thought out of her mind. Nah, he wouldn't have treated Hayato in that threatening manner if he was. She doubted Iemitsu was the kind of person to turn aside a child born out of wedlock.

Iemitsu sighed heavily, like he was burdened greatly in some way or another. He trailed his finger over the rim of his coffee cup, the lines of his face tightening. "I owe his guardian a favour," he admitted delicately and raised his cup to take a gulp of the bitter liquid. He grimaced; Tsuna had long ago noticed that he preferred his coffee with milk and sugar, but apparently it offended his sensibilities as a man to ask, so he'd take it black if that was how it was offered. Maybe Tsuna's high sense of pride was inherited from him?

"So he's housing here, but," he amended at seeing her eyebrows disappear behind her spiky fringe, "Only temporarily." Oh. That was alright then. Now Tsuna felt bad for immediately thinking that the kid had been the reason Iemitsu had disappeared. He was just a kid, so if anything, if that had been true, Iemitsu should be to blame anyway. Curse her diminished maturity for being a child.

Now that that had been worked out, she decided to put the topic aside. Something else was now nagging her.  
"Why did you leave for a year?" she tried to beguile him with her honey eyes in an imitation of her best friend. Because Yamamoto was her only friend.  
"Work," he told her with a patronizing tilt to his nose. Tsuna narrowed her eyes, staring intently into her father's dull brown eyes.  
"Sure, sure -and the truth?" she pressed, propping her elbows on the coffee table. "I won't tell Maman, if that worries you."

He pursed his lips, eyes flickering suspiciously around the room, before he apparently came to a decision. "Alright. I'll tell you, as long as you don't tell mama." He pulled himself to his feet then made her way past the table to crouch down at her eye level (it was an unfortunate truth that she was short as sin.) "Your daddy's a member of a ... vigilant group, back in Italy."  
"And why's a vigilante group needed in Italy?" asked Tsuna.

Iemitsu, seeing that she wasn't taken it as badly as he expected, gave her hair a rustle to show his approval.  
"The vigilante group is called Vongola." Iemitsu gestured at Hayato. "His caretaker is a member of group my group has an alliance with."  
He continued before she could ask him to elaborate.  
"My vigilante group is helping the Italian community. Doing drug busts, raising money for charity, that kind of thing."

Wait now, this was actually starting to sound familiar! If she remembered correctly, her second incarnation had come from had been made very faintly aware of vigilante groups in the neighbourhood, as she'd been an orphan and things hadn't been very safe for her. Wasn't there something about some group called Kozato, too? Well, her former self had been a pretty indifferent person, so the woman had gone about surviving without paying much attention to the political climate of the time.

"And this meant you needed to stay away for a year, because?" Tsuna hinted, linking her fingers underneath her chin.  
Iemitsu returned to his seat.  
"Because I was needed there. There was something only I could do." That sounded like right out of a shounen manga.  
Did he truly believe that Tsuna would fall for that?  
"Fine, whatever, then don't tell me." Tsuna looked the other way to sulk.

Gokudera Hayato ended up sleeping on the couch.

" -and that's what happened," Tsuna finished with a flourish of her hand, lying against the foot of the tree. Yamamoto, who sat opposite her, nodded his head thoughtfully.  
"That sounds rough. Have you tried to become friends with him?" As that was his answer to most of life's problems; befriend them. Or maybe it was better to say subordinate them.

She gave him a flat look, lips twisted in displeasure. "Are you crazy? Of course not. He's trying to take my father's attention all to himself. I can't abide that." She ran her nails gingerly down the bark of the tree. "No, instead, I want the complete opposite." She held him in place with a piercing look.  
"How would you like for us to run him out of this town?"

"Woah," Yamamoto whistled at the very idea. Bullying someone that drastically wasn't his type of game, but Tsuna was his friend. His important friend. Certainly he could make allowances for her, just this once? He straightened his shoulders. "Kay, I'll bite. How?" Tsuna looked more emotional stricken than he'd ever seen her before. This was probably just her blowing of steam. He'd rather her truly be indifferent, then that she be hurt. She didn't have to hide any of her feelings in his presence.

"Here is what we'll do," she began, and shuffled forwards over her knees to whisper it in his ear. Yamamoto's eyes sharpened in undivided interest. They schemed the rest of their day away.

The plan was this; they were going to act very nicely to Hayato, so that he would be the bad guy in mother's eyes for still acting grumpy against Tsuna. Then both mother and father would be against Hayato staying at their home and he'd be kicked out! Yeah!  
Tsuna proceeded to put their plan into action.  
"Say Hayato," she said, folding her arms behind her back whilst batting at the floorboard beneath her with a toe. "Do you wanna go have ice-cream with me and my friend?"

He sneered. "No."

Tsuna pouted and decided to take a page out of her previous previous incarnation's book. She raised her voice.  
"Mamaaaaaan, Hayato says he doesn't want to get ice-cream with me even though I asked nicely!"  
In Japanese society, it was very shameful for the recipient to turn down an invitation. Tsuna smiled innocently as Nana entered the room.  
"Oh, Tsu-kun, I'm sure he didn't mean it," Nana said as she came to a stop next to the bookcase and patted Tsuna consolingly on her shoulder.  
Nana's eyes were zeroed in on Hayato. He looked more than faintly anxious.

"No, no, I wouldn't do that!" Hayato said with wild hand gestures meant to placate them, but mostly Nana. Tsuna rubbed her head against Nana's silk sleeve before she nodded once, sharply. She held out her hand.  
"Then, let's go." Underneath Nana's watchful eyes, he had no choice but to comply.

They walked the rest of the way down the street, hand in hand, until they were out of Nana's line of sight and Hayato ripped his hand from hers.  
"What are you trying to do?" he accused, not taking her newfound kindness for truth. And so he shouldn't or the whole plan would be ruined.  
Tsuna gifted him with an enigmatic smile before she skipped the rest of the way to the park, where Yamamoto was waiting.  
Grumbling to himself, Hayato followed her lead.

A/n I had most of it done already, but recently some stuff of mine's been stolen, so I've been too bad tempered to write any more till now. Sorry about that.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer; nothing is mine but plot and stuff.

Chapter five.  
"This is Yamamoto Takeshi," Tsuna introduced as she flopped down onto the swing next to her friends. She gestured carelessly at Hayato. "That's Hayato. He's a foreigner, so its okay to call him by his first name." Actually, it was still an insult, but Tsuna was pretty sure that the recipient had no idea that it was. He could talk Japanese rather flawlessly though, she had to admit.

"Nice to meet you, Hayato. Tsuna told me lots about you!" Yamamoto chirped, and leaned forwards to accept Hayato's handshake. He gestured at his swing. "Want to play? I could push you." This had Hayato screwing up his face, before he turned away from the swingset and crossed his arms.  
"That's childish," he mumbled, "We're old enough that we shouldn't be on there." Dude, they were only eight years old. Where had he gotten that idea from?

"It's not," she told him patiently as she swung her legs back and forwards to create for herself a momentum. In her third life - her second incarnation - she'd once jumped from the swings and ended up with a broken arm. Apparently her bones from that time had been amazingly brittle. She had never ever jumped from the swings again, though, just to be cautious.

"And it's not good to turn down an offer," she confidently declared. Yamamoto slipped from the swing and invitingly wiggled it through the use of the chains holding the board aloft. Veritable cornered, Hayato ended up on the swing and Yamamoto pushed it, as he'd offered.  
"It's fun isn't it?" He asked the one he was pushing.

Hayato looked quite like he was enjoying himself - eyes closed so he could feel the wind swooshing through his clothes and his hair better. Soon, they would go buy some ice-cream and then return home. That was part two of the plan - mother had to be able to see how ungrateful Hayato would be despite the childrens' hospitality. Tsuna nodded to herself. Yes, that was what was going to happen.

She dismissed the nagging guilt starting to make itself home in the hollows beneath her skull and turned to Yamamoto. "Do you know were we hid my sketch book?" She asked of him with an impatient gesture of her flat hand. Yamamoto stopped in the middle of pushing Hayato, to cock his head sideways in thought. He had an almost eidetic memory, in that he could remember things in pictures, and was usually one to go to if someone had lost something. That was, of course, if what had been lost just hadn't been stolen.

"At the bed of the shrubbery," he remembered, flexing his hand where the cold steel of the shackles had bit into. Tsuna angled herself forwards to brush her feet against the earth, slowly coming to a stop. She swiftly jumped from the board and tore into the shrubbery until she returned, her art tools held aloft in her arms in victory.

"What do you needs those for?" Hayato asked suspiciously, as his own swing came to a stop because Yamamoto wasn't giving him a helping hand any longer. Tsuna shrugged, lifting her slender shoulders helplessly.  
"Nothing."

She didn't need them for anything. She just felt like it - like making a portrait of Hayato, since his features were striking, no matter how bad tempered they looked through his practically permanent scowl. She sat down cross-legged into the grass a metre away from the swing set and Yamamoto resumed pushing Hayato. Though it was a bit difficult getting the contours of his face right while he was being thrown haphazardly this way and that, she managed.

She waited until the two of them returned home (after walking Yamamoto home) until she showed her foe his likeness and braced herself for the inevitable blow-up.

It didn't appear.

Instead, right there in the kitchen, right in front of her mother, Hayato gently tilted the sketch book she'd drawn his countenance on at another angle, eyes widened and practically sparkling. Suddenly, no longer did he look like the big bad wolf but instead like a harmless puppy that might wish to frolic with joy. Apparently he was really, really appreciating her drawing because there were suddenly arms winding around her back. Tsuna patted Hayato back awkwardly feeling very out of place, but mainly a bit touch phobic. Wasn't he the villain? Then why was he acting so grateful for something so...minimal?

"Oh my, it does look like Hayato-kun," Mother put in her two cents as she picked up the sketch pad that landed at her feet. "Would you like to frame it, Hayato-kun?" she glanced towards where the boy was still hugging her daughter. It was fortunate the children were still young, or it would have been severely inappropriate. She couldn't help but think.

"Yes, if possible!" Hayato affirmed as he disentangled himself from the shell shocked form of Nana's daughter. It dawned upon Tsuna that that wasn't normal. Hayato wanted to frame it? But it was just a sketch, not even the real thing! It was natural for mother to want to frame it, but not for some stranger! It was almost like the drawing actually meant something to him! Surely that couldn't be true?

"You sure?" Tsuna asked, cautiously, while smoothing her newly rumpled clothing down.  
"W-what," Hayato replied stubbornly, a nerve jumping in his neck, and he turned away from her, scuffing at the ground with the tip of his combat boot. "It's just a nice drawing, okay!"

"No need to shout!" Tsuna retorted in a much louder volume than him, and began to tug at her spiky hair. Oops. She may have misjudged this guy - and she'd definitely forgotten that she'd already concluded that Iemitsu was at fault, not him. Was that strange weight on her shoulders that of guilt?  
-No, it was just mother using her to lean against while she fitted the drawing into that of the frame she'd just whisked out of the drawers underneath the microwave.

Tsuna released a gush of air and marched back to the lounge to flop down onto the sofa, only faintly aware that Hayato was following her, frame in hand. He slid down on the sofa opposite her and the coffee table. He looked like it pained him to, but began to speak.  
"Look, Sawada, I think we got of the wrong foot. I'm, uh, sorry about acting so -so mean." He glanced away, mouth pulling into a scowl. It was a rather graceless apology, to say the least, but Tsuna reminded herself that he was a kid. That she was still a kid.

She gestured airily. "That's fine. Oh, and it's Tsuna." And waited with baited breath for his reaction.  
"Okay, Tsuna," he commented, going along with it and she involuntarily found herself grimacing. His frown deepened and she hastened to reply, "Ah, I'd rather you call me Tsuna with a honorific - chan, kun, doesn't matter which." Only Yamamoto was allowed to call her Tsuna.  
Hayato locked his hands beneath his chin, pondering something.

He found himself asking. "Why?" And now Tsuna was met with a dilemma. Did she tell him that calling someone by their first name and without a honorific was rude? But he must have known something, or he wouldn't have mainly called her by 'Sawada,' maybe to evoke less familiarity. So she decided to take the plunge.

"To call someone only by their first name is inappropriate," she told him flatly and pressed the wrists of her hands against the sides of her waist like Maman would when scolding. "Like me calling you Hayato-" oh wait fuck no. Too late, she cut her words off at a rather inopportune spot, and now she could see comprehension sparkle in those quick silver eyes of his.

She hurried to do damage control, "Oh but most kids our age don't really concern themselves with matters such as that," so she hadn't silently been insulting him by calling him by his name this whole time, nope, no sire.

"You can call me Gokudera," he told her, his hands clenched on top of his lap, and his lips pressed in a fine unimpressed line. "I'll still call you Tsuna though." Tsuna, just Tsuna, no honorific. She winched, but then let out a small titter escape.  
"Yes, I deserved that. That's fine." And it was, as long as he didn't decide to stop being friends with her, because she was sorely lacking of which.

She held out her hand across the table to appeal to his need for skinship.  
"We can still be friends, right Gokudera-kun?" She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes beguilingly.  
"Fine," he remarked like he was the one doing her a favour. It was pathetic that it was true, too.

She went to bed that night feeling like she'd made a mistake on both ends. She was only thankful he kept the frame.

From then on, Tsuna couldn't exactly say that the three of them had become like the three amigos (since Gokudera, for some strange reason, couldn't deal with being around Yamamoto for long stretches of time) and Gokudera had become only partly convinced about Tsuna's innocence on part of the whole honorific incident, but that was fine.

Tsuna felt rather cheerful now that she had two whole friends! And they were awesome friends, too - though she couldn't spend much time with Gokudera because he would often leave to meet up with his 'guardian' and return home absolutely exhausted and smelling distinctly of gunpowder.

Tsuna had once found it in herself to ask father about that peculiar smell and whether she should be fearing for Gokudera's life, but Iemitsu had convinced her that whatever was going on, it was voluntary. It was also a downside that Gokudera hadn't joined her school, so she still didn't have any friends in her class. But then again, it would be embarrassing for someone she cared about to be spectator of Hitomi's treatment of her, which had gone from following her around to full blown stalking.

Like she was doing right now, for example. The mousy girl was hiding in the shrubbery, but was rustling the branches obnoxiously and it was obvious to everyone in a twenty metre radius that the girl was hiding there. Honestly, it was rather creepy, but mainly distracting, and Tsuna wished for her to stop it already. It didn't help that Hitomi had apparently become good friends with Tomoe and as a response to that, the shrubbery now contained two silhouettes as Tomoe joined Hitomi on her stalking episodes.

Tsuna sighed to herself and moved on to actually have her lunch inside the classroom, like she was actually meant to, because there at least she wouldn't have to end up seeing flashes of Hitomi's pretty face from the corners of her eyes. Besides, this month's quota for being sent out into the corridors for eating outside of the classroom had already been reached - any more and the school would contact her mother, who seemed to take the school's opinion over hers. And that sucked.

She attended a two long periods of mind numbing history - how she hated history! She had lived through a lot of it! She probably knew much more about history than that sanitized version the school was teaching it's students! And then she was shooting out of her desk, the relief in her eyes like starlight, and out of the door with her bag slung over her slender shoulders. Her delight - freedom! freedom! - was so enormous that she didn't even take in Hitomi's presence before she'd slipped through the gate and onto the pavement. There, it occurred to her that the pest had finally crossed safe previously established boundaries. Hitomi was now following her even beyond the school grounds!

Tsuna sped up, her stride hurried, as she tried to shake the strange child biting at her heels. "Hey," she heard chirped in little-girl sing-song. "Wait up!"  
And that was the absolute last straw. Tsuna came to a stop at the intersection, squaring her shoulders as she spread her legs and waited for Hitomi to arrive at her destination.

Her fist was already at her side in preparation, and when Hitomi jogged over and grinned, turning her pretty face to lock eyes with Tsuna, she brought her arm back and -was stopped before she could strike out by cold fingers curling across of her wrist, the smooth fabric of a sleeve pooling down the sides of her hand.

They were both shocked; Hitomi that Tsuna would actually try to hit her and Tsuna that she had been prevented from doing so by the owner of a pasty looking hand. The hand must have been made up off rather innocuous muscles as when she tried to rip her hand from it's grip, she couldn't. But the hand was rather unimpressive looking - thin, bird-like, bony - and its fingers were digging into the curves and dips of her wrist.

Tsuna gasped in pain, and it was only then that the hand dropped her wrist and retreated to it's owner. Tsuna twisted rather awkwardly in an attempt to follow it's journey, and then came eye to eye with a teen with purple eyes who stood by her shoulder. He wagged a finger in front of her face - a soundless reprimand.

"That's not good. Tsuna-chan, it's bad to hit girls," he said, and continued wagging that finger as Tsuna recoiled from this strange, strange person who knew her name.

"I'm a girl. So I can hit them," Tsuna commented in a deadpan when she thought herself at a safe distance. Her hackles were rising. There was something wrong with this teen, outside of his peroxide-white hair and his merry eyes which were nevertheless frost encrusted.

"A girl, huh," the stranger mused to himself. "Strange." Tsuna was wearing an orange cotton dress which mother had carefully picked out for her. How was her identity as a girl not obvious? Now she felt insulted, not to mention offended. Bristling to herself, she sought out eye contact with Hitomi, and tipped her head sideways in a silent gesture for them to leave.

She wasn't about to leave Hitomi alone with this person, no matter how much she'd been annoyed by her antics, because all of her danger bells were ringing. Something bad would happen to the girl as a result, somehow, even-though it had been the stranger that had prevented Hitomi from being slapped. She couldn't explain it. It was the same sense that told her she was safe around her grandfather and those suited people who showed up at her birthday parties.

Maybe, Tsuna mused to herself, it was a bit like how a hedgehog would puff up its spikes at the presence of some unwanted intruder. They must have some sense that told them what was dangerous and what wasn't, right? Tsuna liked to perceive it as an unconscious accumulation of all of the experiences soaked up from her previous incarnations.

Hitomi, however, didn't perceive the stranger's high danger level and instead stayed where she stood, gave the stranger a bow, and thanked him for the safe. Tsuna resisted the urge to face palm - if only this girl had been as courteous towards her own self, and she wouldn't have felt so on edge until she'd finally ended up attempting to slap her.

"Oh, that was mainly to irritate Tsuna-chan," the stranger told Hitomi flatly (see!) "I know well enough that Tsuna-chan wouldn't have tried hitting you for no good reason - or excuse, rather." And this person had intimate knowledge of Tsuna's habits, because? In her eyes, he'd only become more shadier. Hitomi's botton lip quivered at the rather care free denial of her friendship and then chanced a glanced at Tsuna.

Apparently what she read off of Tsuna's face wasn't to her liking, because she turned on her heel and ran. Well, at least she'd finally done the smart thing. Tsuna swallowed compulsively, chewed the inside of her cheek, and then addressed the stranger who'd been taking this all in.  
"How do you know my name?" She wasn't one to beat around the bush.

The stranger seemed delighted at her straightforwardness.  
"I knew you in another world," he stated enigmatically and then he added, almost as an afterthought but definitely not because he kept a close look at her face for her reaction; "You were male then, though."

The corners of Tsuna's lips twitched right on cue. "Was I as fabulous then as I am now?" she asked, and did a pirouette for the hell of it before blinking and snapping out of it. She threw him a filthy glance. "I don't believe you. That's ridiculous." Sure, she could accept reincarnation, maybe, but not another world. What did he think she was? Gullible like an eight year old? (never mind the fact that she was an eight year old.)

"You weren't female, that's for sure," he cheerfully affirmed, before he took a rather comical look around the area. "Where's your mother? A six year old shouldn't walk around on her own." She bit her tongue before she could call out that she was eight, not six, thank you very much. It was a rather transparent ploy for information and decreased her fear that he knew everything about her. Instead, she gave him a question of her own.  
"How old are you?" before back-pedalling in realisation, "Oh, and your name?"

Before he could answer in any way, a red blur streaked its way towards them. It turned out to be a rather slim redhead with his arms full of electronics (that had been bad, he could have tripped and fallen and the priceless technology would have ended up smashed to bits.)  
"Byakuran, what are you doing?" The redhead asked, conveniently answering at least one of her questions. "We're supposed to be at my sister's by now, remember?" He took note of Tsuna, but didn't deign to pay her any further attention.

The two parted after Byakuran promised Tsuna they would meet again in the near future.

A/N Still very depressed over the loss of my stuff, but meh. Here's another chapter anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer; I don't own this. And I no longer own what was stolen. Let me angst in peace. Also, this is not becoming a yuri, before you ask.

"Iemitsu's gone again," Tsuna told Yamamoto as she sagged against the foot of the tree. In her hands she was clutching that present from so long ago - her precious raggedy doll. Her trimmed nails slipped past the mirrored surface, catching on the stormy denim. She glanced down, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Yamamoto looked worried for her, seemed caught between two opposing instincts - whether on giving her her space, or invading it. The latter won, and he pulled her into a hug, arms gingerly holding her together, physically as well as metaphorically.

Gokudera wasn't there either - he was back in his true guardian's custody. Them leaving together had lasted all of two months. It was only fortunate that his guardian had decided that Japan suited him, so he and Gokudera were going to stay for some while longer.

It was really the lack of reliability of it all that bothered her - he could be up and gone whenever it suited that Shamal of his, and Tsuna didn't want him to leave. It would seem that Yamamoto was the only person who's presence she could count on - and her mother, but Tsuna was guilty of the crime of taking the woman for granted. She knew it was a fault of hers that she had to correct, but not now, not with so much setbacks going on.

"That sucks," Yamamoto sympathised after he disentangled himself from her. "Seriously."  
That was what she liked about Yamamoto; he was such a good listener.  
"Want to get some ice-cream?" he questioned, pulling himself to his feet and gallantly reaching out with a helping hand.  
She dismissed it, brushing off the green stains from the grass sticking to her dress.

They left the park towards the mall, passing the stalls they met on the way there from the market place.  
And who would be there but the person Tsuna had been holding a crush for; Sasagawa Kyoko.  
A bright blush covered her cheeks and she ducked in her head as they waited in the queue past where Kyoko was eating her ice-cream.

For Tsuna, sexuality was a bit of a relative thing, considering she had been a boy before and attracted to women before.  
For Tsuna, the only person of female persuasion that she did feel attracted to in this life was Kyoko, though, so maybe it was just an example of_ if-it's-you-it's-okay._ But Tsuna knew very well that Kyoko was straight as an arrow. So she repressed her feelings for Kyoko such as to not make the person uncomfortable. Yamamoto waggled his eyebrows in a honestly disturbing manner. He knew about her crush and tended to enjoy tormenting her about it.

Once they'd gotten their ice-cream, the two of them hurried out of the area.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that they would bump into that dangerous stranger and his redheaded friend at the intersection leading away from the market place. "Ah, this is that Byakuran?" Yamamoto said, giving the person a lingering look with suddenly eagle-sharp eyes. He inclined his head. "Nice to meet you, Byakuran-san." Yamamoto slipped in a grin for the redhead -the one she said she got good vibes from, contrary to the other.

Byakuran gave them a cool look, though he was smiling so broadly it looked like his cheeks should be splitting from ear to ear. "And you are Yamamoto, yes? I would say that it's nice to meet you, but it truly isn't. Are you Tsuna's boyfriend?" Woah, woah, what? Where the hell had that come from? If he truly knew them, he should already have realized the answer to that question.

"He's my confidante," she shot him down instead, her voice a bit more harsh that she'd meant. She shifted her gaze towards the redhead. "We're eight years old. It's physically impossible for us to feel attracted to anyone." That, and their brains weren't fully mature, so there were lots of issues with consent even if they did, as they probably wouldn't be fully able to differentiate between familial and love love. But then again, love is also a rather relative thing, just like family is.

The redhead pushed back his glasses over the bridge of his nose; " -Actually," he tried to inform them on the subject, but then Yamamoto distracted him by asking him to introduce himself, as he was only one out of the four of them who didn't know everyone's names and vice versa.  
"My name? Oh - I'm Shoichi Irie." He gave them a proper bow, and Tsuna knew at once that this kid was dependable in a way Byakuran wasn't.

Before either of the two friends could introduce themselves in return, Byakuran did. "This is Tsuna-chan," he smiled enigmatically and then winked almost consiprationally at Shoichi, who obviously did not have a clue as to why. "He used to be male, once." Then he gestured grandly at Yamamoto.  
"And that's Takeshi-kun." Tsuna bristled at his instant and creepy familiarity but Yamamoto seemed fairly unbothered, at least by that.

"You know, Sho-chan - we should all be really good friends," Byakuran dictated over his shoulder at Irie-san, then turned his gaze on Tsuna again. "Actually, I have something to do right now." He proceeded to walk around his friend, and once at his 'Sho-chan's,' back, he pushed him their way. "You won't mind looking after Sho-chan for me for a while, won't you?" he questioned, mock concerned, for which he creased his eyes and diminished his smile.

It was a challenge, Tsuna could feel it in her bones, but hesitated despite, or maybe -because of that. "If that is alright with you, Irie-san," she avoided rather blatantly and held the kid's gaze. The redhead seemed to be their age, contrary to Byakuran, who seemed to be in his teens.  
"Yes, of course. As long as we'll meet later?" Shoichi addressed Byakuran. Shoichi seemed strangely unflappable, especially considering he'd just agreed to spend his day with two strangers. Well, or he was just that trusting - of either Byakuran, or of anyone.

Byakuran flicked at him teasingly with his fingers. "See you later." He totally had just avoided the question.  
The awkward trio exchanged uncertain looks once Byakuran had removed himself from the area.

"Ugh. We can go look for Gokudera-kun?" Tsuna ended up suggesting, after clearing her throat to rid herself from the leftover heeby-jeebies that close contact within Byakuran's presence had given her. "He's up to some interesting stuff. You won't be bored, Irie-san." And who else but a thrill junkie could voluntarily become a friend of Byakuran's? Well, outside of herself, of course, not that she was even fully comfortable with that fact.

Tsuna found Gokudera at the open spot behind his house, sitting cross-legged upon the sandy landscape. He was folding paper planes. Paper planes, for goodness sake! Tsuna's curiosity was piqued and she stepped past some bushes, closely followed by her friend and the redhead, and towards Gokudera. There was a snap as a branch broke underneath her black ballet shoes once she'd closed in on him.

It was only sheer freaking instinct that had her yanking Shoichi and Yamamoto to her before rolling out of the way of honest-to-god sticks of dynamite.  
That, and the rather lackadaisical speed in which the things had been thrown. Tsuna came to a stop at the foot of the bushes she'd avoided, with a mouth full of Shoichi's red hairs (no -just no) and Yamamoto's elbow uncomfortably jabbing her in the ribs.

Someone groaned softly in her ear (it was probably Shoichi) and she became per definition far more aware of the variety of emotions Gokudera's green eyes could hold as they stared into hers. Like, horror, for example, and shock as well as grief, resignation and defiance. Tsuna felt her lips quirk (seriously, was there ever a worse time) and then she began to chuckle, before that transitioned over to hysterical laughter starting to rake her sharp frame.

Shoichi ended up being the first of them to recover, after he folded his arms across his stomach and looked like he was going to be sick. He heaved himself to his feet from where he'd laid splayed across Yamamoto's torso and fixed his glasses back on top of his nose. He cleared his throat, and managed to bring life back to their frozen forms. And then everything happened at once - as both Tsuna and Yamamoto came to a stand and Gokudera began backing away, face tight, eyes flickering this way and that, looking more than a little cornered.

It was also Shoichi who defused the tension that had been gathering. "Are you Gokudera-san?" he asked, and bowed. "I'm Shoichi - ah, a friend of a friend of a friend." He winced at his own words, which came across as rather stilted and Tsuna noted the way fine way his hands were trembling. Ah, not so unaffected after all, then.

"Yeah," Gokudera agreed gruffly and stuck his hands into his pockets. Tsuna couldn't help but notice that a few more sticks of dynamite had been hanging in between the individual digits.

"Hey, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna began, only to be met with a look that had her stopping before she could finish her sentence. But she wasn't that easily derailed from her purpose, and tried a second time; "Gokudera-kun, we are going to talk after Irie-kun is gone." She wasn't going to allow him to slip from between her fingers now, not when she had gotten truly fond of him.

Speaking of which, it was actually quite amazing how Shoichi wasn't _completely_ freaking out about how he'd almost ended up becoming a sort of human form of a firework - except where his entrails acted as the required pretty lights in the place of any fancy pyrotechnics. Man, Tsuna was going to go to hell for that. She folded into herself as helpless giggles overcame her a second time. It was Yamamoto only who did not eye her with open caution for the spectacle she was making out of herself.

"We dropped our ice-cream," he commented instead, toeing the ruined mess at his feet with a face twisted in remorse.  
"I, like, forgot," Tsuna admitted brusquely and then batted her eyelashes Shoichi. "Hey, since we're 'friends' of your friend, do you think you can buy us some ice-cream?" Tsuna had really been looking forward to it. "Please?" She cocked her head like the clueless puppy she'd once seen do after it had tripped over its own feet and landed in the curve. That puppy had sure looked confused, and for that, adorable.

It turned out that he didn't. Instead, he evacuated that place, complaining of a stomach ache. It wasn't a great loss.

And now she stood squatted in front of Gokudera, who'd clawed himself into an armchair. "We need to talk," she told the boy who was as tense as some lady about to give birth - and that was very tense indeed. "This is why you've always been smelling of gunpowder," she speculated at his continued silence, and ran a quivering hand through her hair. Yamamoto gave her an encouraging thumbs up from the corner of her eye, where he was leaning, his arms folded, against the radiator. Tsuna swallowed compulsively.

It was fortunate that Gokudera's guardian wasn't there - he probably wouldn't have abided to Gokudera being interrogated as he was now - especially considering how he stressed the poor boy looked, with his newly pasted pallor. But Tsuna was his friend, and she needed to know his secrets so that she could protect them for him. So he just had to suck it up, and no longer look like they'd burnt his house down with some Cave Johnson certified lemons.

"Are you worried for your life? Is that why the bombs? And the jumpiness?" Because without a valid reason, she doubted even he would be_ that_ trigger happy that he would resort to throwing dynamites at intruders inside his metaphorical lawn, like some crochety old grandpa. It wasn't paranoia if they were _truly_ out to get you; and never had a truer saying been discovered. Gokudera kept stubbornly silent.

Tsuna glanced towards Yamamoto for help who shrugged helplessly. Fat load of good that did. With a sigh, she reached out to pat Gokudera on the lower arm. "If you turn out to be in a gang, we'll still be there for you. Because that's what friends do. They don't judge." Gokudera searched her eyes to see whether it was true and she spread her arms to show her openness, that he could trust her.

They locked eyes for a few seconds more, before he slumped against the plush armchair, shoulders sagging underneath the weight of the secret he'd kept but was going to share with them. "It's the mafia," he spat out, bristling like a hunted deer who had been pursued by a particular determined hunter. "I'm in the mafia. The Italian mafia. Because I'm Italian." He shook off her hand, before draping an arm across his eyes. "So's your dad," he mentioned offhand and her honeyed eyes widened.

"He's Italian?" she questioned mechanically, purposefully ignoring what he truly meant.  
"Yes," Gokudera stressed. "And a mafioso." And he shattered her denial like she'd shattered his.

Then Yamamoto was there with his jersey for her to bury her head into, patting her back. He watched Gokudera over her head and they shared a look.  
"Look," Gokudera suggested, "Maybe we should talk about this, but later." Not to mention the fact that in any moment his guardian could barge in and interrupt their tête a tête. Shamal ruined the mood no matter the occasion, and definitely one there was girl (Tsuna) involved.

Tsuna blinked, and no longer seemed capable of processing what exactly was happening around her, the gears of her mind churning furiously as she realized that Iemitsu had lied to her. Her father, whom she'd idolized above all else despite attempts to do otherwise, had lied to her after she'd asked him, point blanch, what exactly had kept him from home. Yeah, this wasn't exactly the greatest conclusion she'd ever come to.

Yamamoto led her outside of Gokudera's building, Gokudera following a few brisk metres behind. She, at least, knew the road they were following; to go back to their hideout inside the park where she could perhaps fall apart to her hearts-content. She allowed Yamamoto to lead her because at least he hadn't betrayed her trust, like her father had.

She blinked and they'd arrived at the spot where the trees grew in close clumps and she practically collapsed when Yamamoto let her go to lean against the foot of his favoured tree Gokudera's hand snapped out to stop her from doing so and it was a disappointment. And so, as everyone made themselves comfortable, Gokudera cleared his throat and then began his tale - a tale about Vongola.

Once he was finished, Tsuna clutched the sides of her head as a fierce pain grew from where she'd first only felt relaxing coldness, ever since that night. Everything grew green before her, and blue, yellow, before the colours went swiftly shoved away by an immense teeth splitting black which swiftly took over her whole vision. The pain in her head ballooned with it. She moved her head back into rough bark and her head throbbed, _throbbed._

" -Quick ... feverish ..." she heard being said, from what felt like a far distance.  
"What's wrong ... ?" another voice inquired. " ... ... -place is closer."  
"Can't trust ... maybe ... ?" Her head hurt.  
The voices receded.

Tsuna whimpered, pawing at whoever was holding her, an enormous weight upon her forehead, nails scraping (tracing gingerly) beneath her fringe. Even the slightest touch was like an explosion of white-hot pain doing a jig underneath her skull. Her head was pounding and her eyes glued shut, hands clawing into something fleshy. But that was alright, because now, she was aware of herself again.

A soft brush against her cheek with something soft - a handkerchief. "Are you waking up yet, you lazy bones?" A merry voice laced with threat that had every alarm bell inside of her ringing. Byakuran.

It was Byakuran.

A/N apparently I cannot write without resorting to angst. Sighhhhh. Maybe because I'm still depressed about what I've lost. Ah well. Thanks for everyone who's reviewed me, those that have followed me, and those that have added my story to their favourite list. Thanks for those who even only took the time to read this little fanfic of mine. Thanks you guys. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer; I don't own this, neither do you, let's cry ourselves a river over a mountain of ice-cream. We'll all get gloriously fat.

"Oooh," Byakuran commented, "You're awake!" He could probably feel her heart rapidly pumping through her veins, bringing much needed oxygen to her brain. She would have sat up and properly faced him, but Tsuna wasn't capable of that yet. Hell, she wasn't even capable of peeling the lids from her eyes.

"What;s wrong with me?" she asked instead, and was pleased that she was able to do that, at least.  
"A lot of things," Byakuran assured her. "Want me to list them?" She was given the faint idea that he'd just insulted her. Her head hurt.  
"But it is mainly the seal unravelling that has caused this to happen." The seal? What seal?

Byakuran decided to stop beating around the bush - he must have noticed Tsuna's adamant confusion.  
"The seal that has been planted on you. Don't tell me -you never noticed?" Byakuran pressed his hands against his lips in a mockery of a gasp.  
"Stop that," Tsuna groaned, and tried to move an inch. It didn't work. How shameful.

"But I digress. The seal acts like a blockage for your dying will flames." There was a beat of expecting silence. "You don't know what that is, either?"  
"No," Tsuna declared, "It's a save bet that I don't know anything. Go along with it." Well, anything that he knew, at least.  
Byakuran shifted -she could hear the rustle of clothing and the creak of a chair, and then the handkerchief was once again there, brushing against her forehead.

"Then I'll explain dying will flames, first," Byakuran suggested in what was not really a suggestion, since Tsuna wasn't capable of going anywhere to escape any of the explaining being done. "Dying will flames," Byakuran remarked, "Push a human's body to the limit and beyond. You know those stories about mothers lifting heavy objects from their children? Or the achievements of extreme athletes? Those are all due to the use of dying will flames."

He shifted, and the handkerchief was gone again. "Dying will flames are called upon through gross emotion, or the flight and fight effect being activated. You've had biology lessons, right? Then you know about the sympathetic and parasympathetic nerves. The dying will flames comes into fore when the sympathetic nerves are conditioning your body for action."

Tsuna was finally able to open her eyes a creak and noticed that Byakuran had linked his hands beneath his chin and was staring of in the distance, his eyes hazing over with thought.  
"Just like adrenaline will be pumped through your body, so will dying will flames manifest. Most of the time dying will flames take the form of unseen flames decorating your forehead and hands, but sometimes these flames can also be seen. Usually only for certain types of people, who might be eligible for the hyper dying will flames."

Tsuna wished to know more, but before then, she also wanted the pain still circulating through her body, and her head most of all, to stop.  
"Get on with it," she ordered and closed her eyes again. They'd started to water.  
"As you wish," Byakuran decided, his voice a bit more lower than usual, a sign he was taking her seriously.  
"Because a stoppage has been made through the use of the seal, you won't be able to manifest your flames in any healthy way."  
"So instead, your flames are now saturating the empty places inside of your body -and that has been weighing you down, making you sluggish and far more clumsy than you naturally are."

Byakuran exhaled noisily above her. His sigh sounded rather worried.  
"It's an unfortunate truth that the one who sealed you didn't realize. Your despair at the thought that Iemitsu can't to be trusted -that he had lied to you, caused your flames to lash out beyond what the stoppage allows. So not only are the empty spaces in your countenance being taking over, there has been radiation occurring. These flames have started to affect you, but not in the healthy way they are meant to, because the stoppage won't allow it."

His voice took on a disturbed tone, and she was sure the eyes that looked down upon her were just as haunted. She made a whimpering noise; those flames were starting to eat her brain? Bizarre.

"The person who sealed you is powerful -the seal is beyond my means. The only thing I would be able to do is plant another seal -one that has the exact opposite effect and calls out your flames as they should be called, and stop the excess flames from radiating. It won't help you manifest your flames as they should be, because the stoppage will still be in place, and it's quite possible that this will cause you permanent damage in the way of never being able to use them no longer. But at least the flames will disappear, stopping you from being quite so sluggish, and preventing your brain from being scorched." Was it that obvious what she had been thinking?

But what he was insinuating was great! Tsuna didn't want a recurrence of those flames with which she'd practically burnt down her kitchen, and certainly not if they would appear at any extreme emotion -that sounded way too inconvenient. So now she wouldn't have to worry about it ever reappearing and that was definitely good news! Tsuna made a sound of acquisition. "Do it."

And so Byakuran, now that he had her informed consent, began to paint a seal upon her brow with his own blood and the fine application of sky flames. It took some ten minutes but then he was done, and leaned back in his chair, releasing a sigh of relieve that uplifted him. It was quite unfortunate that Tsuna wouldn't be able to use her flames no longer through this, but then, that was actually quite convenient for him.

He smiled down at the relaxing form of Tsuna, who'd began to snore immediately after the procedure was done, completely exhausted. Don't get him wrong -he did like Tsuna, she was blunt and straightforward in a way that was utterly refreshing. That did not mean, however, that he was going to put his plans for world domination aside for her.

He'd liked Yuni too, after all, and that had never prevented him from using her to merge their two famiglias together to give him more fire power. He leaned forward to brush the messy lock of hair from Tsuna's nose, smoothing the spot on Tsuna's forehead where his seal had only just been prominently displayed. Well, not that he could still use Yuni in that matter, which was kind of a load off of his heart. Now that he thought about it, it was far past time that he introduce his little sister to Tsuna.

Tsuna woke up an hour later, and Byakuran pointed her towards the courtyard. "Your famiglia - sorry, friends - are waiting for you." Tsuna hopped from the bed, and, after graciously thanking him, skipped out of his bedroom. She touched her forehead while ghosting through the corridors. It was strangely warm.

She found the courtyard, where Gokudera was pacing so fervently that he was wearing away at the stone beneath his feet, and where Yamamoto sat on a bench and had his back turned to her. Neither of them had noticed her, as of yet. So she snuck up to Yamamoto (not Gokudera, she had learned her lesson) and then attacked him by wrapping her arms around his neck. "Who?" Was his reaction, because he wasn't completely trigger-happy insane like Gokudera happened to be, and drew said boy's attention. Gokudera's eyes lit up. "Tsuna!"

"Oh," Yamamoto hummed, and then he leaned back into her arms. D'awww. She crawled over the bench and Gokudera joined them in the impromptu hugging pile. There was just so much feels. Eventually, when they were done with the skinship (YOU COULD NEVER BE DONE WITH THE SKINSHIP) Gokudera sat against the back of the bench and said, "I'm so sorry."

He seemed pretty guilty, his brows knitting together over the bridge of his nose, and then he bowed as low as he could, kowtowing before her. It was kind of awkward, considering that Tsuna had gotten used to the more harsh type of Gokudera, and had only been given glimpses of his extreme loyalty and low self-esteem. "If I hadn't," he added after a moment's silence, in which none of them spoke. "This wouldn't have happened."

Tsuna pursed her lips at that, and pushed herself from Yamamoto to sit up on her folded knees. "You guys don't know what happened, right?"  
Yamamoto hummed in conformation. She knew it.  
"Well, I had a seal planted on me, and it's bad luck that it reacted during such an indiscriminating moment." She laid a hand on his arm, her thumb rubbing soothingly down his elbow, but Gokudera avoided her gaze. "It could have happened at any other time. Gokudera-kun, you weren't to blame-"  
"Hayato," he interrupted, and when he looked up, she saw that his eyes were bloodshot. "You can call me Hayato, Tsunayoshi-sama."

_Weeeelllll. _Now wasn't THAT a suspicious turnabout. Tsuna narrowed her eyes at him. "I won't." Hayato, to her distress, proceeded to look absolutely devastated. Tsuna quickly cut in before he could continue to misunderstand her; "Not that I'm turning aside your attempt to make amends, but what I'm saying is, I suck and there's honestly no reason to kowtow to me. That, and you're supposed to be calling me Tsuna, remember?"

He had clenched his hands into fists. Tsuna twisted to share a look with Yamamoto over her shoulder. "And alright," she released a breath of defeat as she returned to facing him, balling her own hands on top of her knees, shoulders hunched. "I'll call you Hayato, Hayato-kun." She would of liked it if she would have been able to get rid of his anxieties without resorting to this, but nevermind.

The impression she was getting that Hayato wasn't going to take to any placating of the debt he felt he owed was only reinforced, as Hayato quickly cut in; "Not -kun, Tsunayoshi-sama. I'm not worthy of that honorific." Tsuna shook her head and removed her hands from her knees, to collapse against Yamamoto again, who immediately ran a calming hand through her spiky hair. He could feel the tense state of her body. She must still be exhausted.

"-kun," Tsuna stressed through gritted teeth. "I'm your friend, Hayato-kun. Let me call you like a friend should." Grave green eyes met hers, and it was obvious that Hayato wasn't going to give up on the subject. He needed this from to be loosed from the debt he felt he owed her. She jumped up from the bench and from Yamamoto's ministrations to pace across the stone path beside which.

She had but one option left; one that was sure to get rid of Hayato's stubbornness. It was, as they say, time to bring out the big guns. She chewed the inside of her cheek, her stride quickening, arms scissoring through the air, until she was veritably stomping her way back and forwards. Why couldn't everything be nice and clear cut? What was up with the whole complicated shit she was being forced to deal with? They were eight year olds! Eight. Years. Old!

There was really but one solution left, and she decided it was time to go with what her head was telling her to do and not her smarts. _Yes, shut up, they weren't the same things, okay? OKAY? _She cleared her throat, pulling at her collar, and came to a sudden stop. "Fine. Have it your way, Hayato." And hated herself for it.

Hayato lit up again, practically beaming such that she could feel his delight even from where she was avoiding his gaze. Instead, her eyes trailed over the cracks of the bricks making up the courtyard, studiously counting them. This had been the only outcome that she'd been able to swallow, though.

As otherwise she would have just used her new found pull over Hayato to force him into accepting the honorific, and that, most of all, would have been the precursor to a servant-like relationship with one of the few friends she had. Unacceptable.

She returned to the cuddle pile with her heart sinking.

As luck would have it, not much changed over the course of the next year, even though Tsuna had been met with the truth about her father's job. Actually, instead, Tsuna had started a rather tentative friendship with Shoichi. Her relationship with Byakuran (after he'd saved her life) had already become rock solid. Which was rather weird, really, considering she still got evil vibes from him. She didn't really know why it was so difficult to see Shoichi as her friend, though, when she had no problems getting close to Yamamoto and Gokudera and his own psychotic bestie.

"So, what is your favourite manga?" Tsuna inquired blandly, her knuckles against her cheek as as she supported herself with her elbow propped against the table. She'd been doing that for a while now; asking Shoichi questions to get to know him better. Seriously, the kid was likeable, and under other circumstances she supposed she would have found a great friend in him. So it was just absolutely frustrating that she couldn't find it in herself to accept him that easily. Seriously.

"My favourite manga?" Shoichi echoed, where he was toying with the straw from his milkshake. "Mmm. I don't have one."  
"Unfortunate," Tsuna considered, and yawned, belatedly realizing she should have covered her mouth. Though, ever since the whole seal affair, she hadn't been feeling that unnatural clumsiness anymore, she was getting far more tired than usual. Who wouldn't, if they were made to always transmit two separate sources of flame to balance one another out?

There was a scrape of wood against stone, as Tsuna pushed her chair out from underneath the circular table. "You know what? Let's just go," she suggested, as they were obviously not getting anywhere. It was better when they had other people around them; less awkward, at least. She waited for him to stand up as well before vacating the area, slipping through the crowded streets that were as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

She knew the best shortcuts to take that would bring her to Yamamoto's place; her next destination. It was such a shame that they just happened to be derailed on their way there. Stopped by what was a rather bizarre scene taking place in the alley they'd just entered. Seriously, why couldn't Tsuna's life just be normal, already?

"Hey you. Stop terrorizing her," Tsuna raised her voice so that the kid knew who was scolding him. The kid, the toddler, had somehow managed to climb up on the girls' shoulders and was pulling the girl's hair. She was quacking in her boots. It was all rather pathetic.

The little fiend turned his grubby little face and sent Tsuna a filthy look, along with a challenging smirk, and as the girl found the courage to flail around, the kid hung on stubbornly -tearing out a chunk of her silky hair in the process. Tsuna saw red.

She was there in one stride, ripping the kid off of the girl in the quick and jerky movement of her arms, (ignoring the rancid bell ringing in the back of her mind screaming c_hild abuse, child abuse!) _and then Shoichi was there, and the toddler was in his arms and he was scolding the child even as it tried to ram itself against the other, nails digging into Shoichi's jumper. Tsuna probably would have hit the child to make it shut up with it's antics -this is why she had never allowed herself to be a mother.

Instead, Tsuna stepped up to the assailed girl, who's general well being troubled her far more in this instance and probably in any other. The girl had protectively folded her arms around her hair, and was so traumatised that once she saw that the little devil had been dealt with, she dropped everything to cling to Tsuna's skirt.

Tsuna sighed tersely through gritted teeth, and made eyecontact with Shoichi over the girl's head, who's back she was in the middle of patting, before she murmured nonsense words to her and gestured at him to get the child out of their line of sight.

For all they knew the child was the girl's younger brother, or whatever, but Tsuna couldn't care less. Instead, she crouched down to embrace the girl more fully (though there were about the same height, with the girl being perhaps a few inches taller) but her distress made her small.  
She wiped at the girl's cheeks with her wide hime sleeve to get rid of the tears staining them. "I'm Tsuna. And you are?"

The girl swallowed a new bout of tears before answering. "Hana." Tsuna gifted her with as gentle a smile as she could squeeze out.  
"That's a cute name. Do you know where your parents are, Hana?" She seemed to be at the same age as Tsuna, but that didn't mean she was at the same age maturity wise. Besides, most nine-year-old's weren't left anywhere unsupervised, no matter how safe the town.

Even Tsuna herself wasn't. Her mother would worry, except that the woman heeded Iemitsu's words, and if he said that the friends she surrounded herself with would keep her safe, Nana would take it as the law. Tsuna didn't doubt that it was mainly Tsuna's friendship with Gokudera that had him so convinced her friends could protect her.

That, and Tsuna had began to notice similarities in the strange suited people that she could often pick out of the crowd in a twenty metre radius from where she was -so, in other news, he had people keeping an eye on her.

One thing she did wonder about, though, was the reason behind why the suited people hadn't been there, that time her head had hurt so much, because whatever issues Tsuna now held against Iemitsu, she knew that he wanted to keep her and Nana safe and protected.  
It was obvious from how she reacted that time in the park that she had been anything but 'safe' and 'protected.'

Maybe he'd been fine with her friends sorting it out without really realizing that her ailment had been life threatening? Well, there was that, or maybe there was dissent present in his ranks.

"Uhuh. They left me an' my cousin here," (ah, so the child was related to the girl! Mystery solved), "But they said they'd return soon."  
Tsuna blew the bangs out of her face. "How soon is soon?" she interrogated as kindly as she could bring herself to.  
"Soon," Hana reiterated, her face forming a small pout. It was little-girl resilience.

There was movement in front of the alley, and then Shoichi entered with a gaggle of people, one of which seemed to have the same hair as Hana.

"What was your cousin doing to you?" Tsuna questioned in a soft whisper before the group could reach them and take Hana away.  
"He bullies me," Hana whispered back. "He always does." So, an eight year old (or whatever age she was) was being bullied by a five year old (or around that age)? That was pretty bad, as Hana wouldn't be able to fight back; or rather, not without bringing her family's displeasure down on her.

Tsuna straightened, turning herself and Hana around. She deliberately raised the volume of her voice. "My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi, Hana. I live close to here. You can come visit me whenever at ***** district." She then pushed Hana into what was probably her mother's arms and gave the person an accusative glare. "It's bad to leave children alone." Even if she was totally being a hypocrite here, considering Nana.

The gaggle of people left with the two children in tow and Tsuna couldn't help but wonder whether she would ever see the girl again.

A/N Here. It's a chapter. I'm so sad that there practically isn't any other Byakuran stories. I just had to come out with a chapter with excess Byakuran. Also, does anyone want me to write a more Byakuran centric fanfic alongside this one? It'll mean updates for this one will lag, but they would be more Byakuran goodness! Also, Kurokawa Hana's trauma about children is totally due to the hands of a bratty cousin, there's no other excuse.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer; Don't own, you don't either, also, no yuri, damnit.

Chapter eight.

"Tsuna-channnn!" Iemitsu chirped as he hiked up said person, and swung her around by her arms. "We're going!" The swoosh as air curved by her ear was enough to make her dizzy. But she had to ask.  
"Going where?" because he honestly hadn't been too clear with that. She'd just entered the building after coming home from school and was immediately accosted! He was lucky he was her father; if it were Byakuran, she might have stabbed him. -Maybe not. He was too scary to stab.

"To Kokuyo land, obbvvioousslllly!" Iemitsu replied, and there was a healthy flush to his cheeks that told her he had been drinking. Tsuna felt very much like a raggedy doll, putting up with her father's whims as she was.  
Mother stood in the hallway, waiting for them. She was beaming brightly; she looked much younger. That had been a reoccurring happening, though. Ever since Iemitsu would disappear for weeks or even months on end, Nana would seem older and then younger when he returned.

It probably wasn't good for mother's health. "Let me down," Tsuna ordered imperiously, and was promptly placed on her feet by the force of her command. Well, it was probably more like Iemitsu was indulging her. Disgruntled Tsuna preferred the former to the latter, because it made her feel more grownup. Not that she wanted to be a grownup, nope, no sire. She just wanted her opinions to be listened to -mainly for her father to stop lying to her. She was nine, after all. Almost a teenager.

And off to Kokuyo land they went.

"This place is cursed," Tsuna quoted critically, and furrowed her brows at how very crowded the place was. Apparently Kokuyo land was actually popular, though Tsuna had never heard of it before. Nana was holding her hand with a vice grip so that Tsuna wouldn't end up lost in the crowd.  
They stopped at a stall, where Nana bought for the both of them those stupid straw hats with the thin rims. If only Yamamoto was there, he'd safe her from the shame of having to wear it.

Admittedly, it was quite a good article of clothing to own when it was as sunny as it was; almost as good as shades. She was already wearing them, though, so the straw hat remained redundant Nana pulled on Tsuna's wrist to get her to follow and stop sneering at her hat, so she did and they walked past a few other stalls most of them selling cheap, plastic jewellery that would have Tsuna's skin going green. Tsuna didn't have expensive tastes, but her body disagreed with her on that part.

They also walked past an ice-cream truck (which was blaring a truly ugly tune and Iemitsu glared at balefully) before finally settling down to have lunch in a grassy field nearby for a picknick. Apparently Nana had already made the required bentos for the occasion.  
"I don't like bananas," Tsuna decided and turned her nose up at them. She was very picky, and there was often a day when she would go to bed hungry because she turned dinner down and hence wasn't allowed anything else to eat the rest of the night but bread.

"You don't need to eat them," Iemitsu reminded her with a tilt of his chin, in the direction of the grapes. She immediately grabbed some for her plastic bowl. Iemitsu didn't like bananas either, apparently, as he sampled a bit of everything but the bananas. Nana ended up having to throw it away in the bushes when they had finished lunch and were ready to move on.

That was disregarding the fact that Tsuna had already eaten lunch at school and wasn't that hungry. The gruel they were fed there had begun to grow on her like some particularly stringy fungus. It was either that or starve and be distracted for the rest of her school time. Something Tsuna disliked, considering that, for her mother's sake, she had to get good grades in every subject.

"Tsunayoshi-san!" she heard someone call out as she and Nana where about to enter the ferris wheel compartment. She turned to her right, saw nothing, then peered to her left and noticed the distant form (coming closer) of someone waving. It was Hana, the girl she had saved just the other day. What a strange coincidence. Tsuna's eyebrows disappeared behind her spiky fringe. She squinted, peering out into the distance with a hand held over her eyes, but couldn't see Hana's bratty cousin. Good.

She was surrounded by three adults, and one of them Tsuna could remember seeing the other day; the one who's hair was the same as Hana's. Hana's hair was really smooth and a nice colour - black, with an almost purplish sheen depending on the lighting. It was actually quite enough to make Tsuna jealous, who, in this incarnation, had been saddled with out-of-control spiked up brownish-orange hair (official name Titian but that was just needless semantics.) Hana's hair also had a nice curly wave to it -it was just a shame that she could see where the cousin had torn a chunk out of.

Tsuna proceeded to slap herself (only mentally, of course, no need to scare the girl of) because what was she doing, waxing poetry about some other girl's hair? Maybe her sexuality was suspect and it wasn't only Kyoko who could end up as her crush. Hana eventually reached them, out of breath, her blouse fluttering with every breath she took to regain it. Tsuna peered at her, as she removed her hand from above her eyes, and tried to figure out whether she felt anything for the girl.

There was a beat of silence as they stared at one another until Hana said, doubtfully; "I could have sworn you were taller." And nope, Tsuna didn't feel the thump-thump-thump that notified her of her crush each time Kyoko opened her mouth. Agh, nevermind then. Sometimes Tsuna wished that her mind wouldn't run away with it's bizarre theories. At least this time she managed to suppress her laughter in time.

"This girl is your friend?" Iemitsu found the need to question. Understandable. She had been surrounding herself with those of the male persuasion, hadn't she? Tsuna turned away from Hana. "Yeah." Only that was her answer, and she scratched at the section just above her collar. She didn't hear Hana lodge any complaint, so apparently it was fine with her, too.

Hana made a sound of impatience, tugging on her mother's sleeve; "Can we go on the ferris wheel, too?" Her mother nodded her consent. And so they did, Hana joining Tsuna's compartment. Iemitsu immediately interrogated the girl on how they'd become friends.  
"Tsunayoshi-san helped me," she admitted, and did not elaborate even when Iemitsu tried to cajole a more immersed explanation from her.

Hana and her group joined them the during the rest of their day out.

"So, Hayato, tell me more about my father's group. Vongola, was it?" Tsuna suggested, as she began to knead dough beneath her hands. The two of them were in the kitchen, alone. Maman had gone to visit her friends, so they had the house to themselves. A perfect time for her to question Hayato on what he knew, and what exactly her father had trapped himself in.

Hayato, who had taken a seat at the island after offering his help (which she had turned down) was earnestly following her every move with those green eyes of his.

It was cheesy, but they were like the storm, and staring into them was like being seated on the windowsill, cheeks and nose pressed against the thinly frosted layer of glass, as the lightning crackled outside in a glorious show of nature's ferocity. Those eyes were also like solemn nights in her bed, warmth soaking in through the blanket snugly draped over her, as thunder rumbled and made her feel less alone.

Tsuna promptly decided she was just having a poetic week, and then forced the imagery to the back of her mind to analyse at a more opportune time. She zoned back in on the present, where her hands - trimmed nails, soft palms - had been kneading on automatic.

Her gaze dropped to them, to the physical sign that all those many lives she'd lived hadn't born any fruit. Nope, she didn't have the calluses of a violist, or that of a hard working farmer, or that of someone who'd been taught archery. Nope, she didn't have the calluses of an artist, or that of a horse rider, or the wear of old corrosive soaps. All evidence of her hard work, gone. This body was so soft, so malleable, and so would her next. She wouldn't keep these hands then, either.

"Vongola," Hayato began, "is the most powerful mafia famiglia of Italy, and has been for a long time now. It was founded nine generations ago, by the Vongola Primo, the man commonly know as Giotto. It originally started out as a vigilante organisation, and still bears those roots, even as it has turned towards organised crime. It is an organisation as strong as it is merciful, and that is mainly because it can afford being merciful. What Iemitsu said, about drug busts and charity work is essentially true. The Vongola family doesn't deal in drugs and is often the first to help out at a disaster zone."

"Yes, but they do deal in weaponry and smuggling, right?" Tsuna interrupted her friend, fingers clenching around the rolling pin she held in hand. "And they orphan people, and they fight with lots of collateral damage and disrupt the world's economy and cause lots and lots of grief towards those who aren't Vongola?" And Hayato was forced to bow his head in acquisition, as even he couldn't hand wave all the evil that Vongola were to reckon for.

Tsuna swallowed, a nerve jumping in the nape of her neck at her tense state of mind, bitter. "Iemitsu isn't the man my mother married." And more importantly, he isn't the father she had expected him to be, wanted him to be. Hayato began to talk, apparently unwilling for her to have a bad impression of the mafia that he was a part of. Maybe because it'll lead to her having a bad impression of him. Silly. He was her friend, she wasn't going to judge him.

Then, he unfurled the picture he'd kept in his pocket with a flourish. "And look, the first generation Storm Guardian looks like me!" he pointed out with eagerness lighting up green eyes like lighting across of a clouded sky. Tsuna placed the rolling pin down, and walked over, peering honey eyes over his shoulder, before they widened exponentially at what she saw. The picture, if one could call it that, was really just a sketch, a drawing. But the drawing - and this was the most important thing - resembled Hayato in every way.

"You are sure that that the first generation Storm Guardian, right?" Tsuna questioned, leaning her chin on his shoulder, and pressing her cheek against his. "That's suspicious." And it was. Seriously though, that was creepy. Maybe Hayato was an reincarnation of this person, and didn't know it? That idea, she decided, held merit, considering she had first hand proof that reincarnation was possible. At least now she could understand his Vongola worship.

"Actually," Hayato began, looking as if he'd just been shot through by the arrow called inspiration, "I have a picture of the first Vongola boss too - he, uh," he suddenly seemed to think differently of what he'd just been planning on telling her. Maybe because Tsuna had folded up the drawing of the imitation - she couldn't bear to look at it any longer - and may just be sneering down at it, just a tad, just a little. The thought that Hayato was a lookalike of someone else offended her fine sensibilities.

In the end, he kept his mouth shut about Giotto.

"Mm-hm?" Tsuna swerved her head to look at him. "A sister?" And Byakuran nodded, smile comfortable fixed upon his face, a packet of marshmallows between his fingers. Contrary to popular opinion, his diet didn't solely consist of the things. He just had a sweet tooth - he liked eating dango and other such snacks too.

They were seated in the park - Yamamoto wasn't there, unfortunately, as he had been needed to help out at his home. It was a bit different being there with Byakuran instead, lying in her favourite spot against her tree. She'd even named it, carved her name into it, all six of them. They were all her true names, all of them, even if she went by Tsunayoshi this time over.

Byakuran scraped his nail against one of the earlier carvings that she'd made. "Yep. We're not blood related, though. I was adopted by her family after my own had me dismissed." She winced in sympathy. Ah, ouch. Disownment was the one thing that had never happened to her over the course of history. Well, not formally, though she'd had family members turn against her before. It was the worst.

"My condolences," she told him, pulling her legs to her chest in an insecure gesture. He placed a hand over her own.  
"No worries!" he assured, amethyst eyes sparkling at the sign of her growing attachment to him. He waved a hand dismissively. "I'd disowned them in my mind a long time ago." Tsuna didn't know whether to feel reassured by that, and batted his hand away.

"What is your sister's name?" she asked instead, looking over his shoulder to trace the clear sky above their heads. His lips quirked at ther avoidance of the subject, but he smoothly indulged her by going along with it.

"My younger sister is called Yuni. She's only four now, but she's already plenty mature." Byakuran was fairly sure the reason behind which maturity was the great expectations that had been heaped onto her back, ever since she was born, as the soon to be heir of the Giglio Neo and the Gesso, both.

His own right to the Gesso famiglia had been subverted when it came out that he was actually a bastard child, and not even related to his father, head of Gesso. Somehow, Yuni was - though she was technically also a natural child, considering her mother hadn't married her biological father. That had surprised him too - mainly because, in every other alternative dimension, he'd been purely his parents' child.

"That's good," Tsuna declared, before she hopped up to her feet. "Then you'll let me meet her?"  
"That was the plan," Byakuran earnestly replied, taking her hand to haul himself up, before he tugged a stick attached to a leaf from her hair.

They left for his house.

A/N a bit shorter than normal, but then, the last one was a bit longer than normal so it evens it out. I'm running out of fun meetings now. Maybe I should already start with the plot?


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer; I don't own this, but I do own a new book. Nothing else as of yet, though.

"This is Yuni?" Tsuna questioned with a contemplative look towards the four year old struggling through her stretches. "She's adorable," she judged after a moments pause. And Yuni was - like, the most adorable four year old Tsuna had ever seen. The determined look in her eyes was nice too.  
"Isn't she?" Byakuran enthused. "It's a real shame that she won't have control over her live, even when passing childhood."

Tsuna turned to face him, seated on the bench next to her as he was. "What do you mean with that?" She inquired with a bit worry furrowing her brows. Yuni looked up for a second and waved, before continuing.  
"Her future is all planned out for her," Byakuran admitted with a careless shrug of his shoulders, but she could see that his jaw had tightened. He didn't look all that satisfied with said current state of affairs.

"How unfortunate," Tsuna replied. She turned to watch Yuni, mentally groping around for a change of subject. She landed on one; "She doesn't resemble you in the least." Which was true, where general colouring was concerned.

Where Byakuran looked otherworldly with his peroxide-ish blonde hair and amethyst eyes, Yuni looked very down to earth, with her earthen green hair and her eyes which reminded Tsuna inexplicable of the deep depths of the sea.

Yuni had a very honest face, where her every emotions was depicted in colours and shades. Or maybe she was just like any other average four year old in that regard. Tsuna didn't know. She generally paid those younger than her only the minimum required amount of attention.

Byakuran wrinkled the packet of marshmallows in his hands, smiling wryly. "We're not related, remember?" And Tsuna remembered. It was very convoluted, she considered, like someone had hastily come up with a background for the pair in a failed attempt to repair a plot hole that had been eating the fabric of space itself.

Yuni, finished with her workout, decided come over to where they were seated. She flopped down next to Byakuran, her feet swaying backwards and forwards, as they were too small to reach the floor of the dojo. "This is Tsuna? I thought you said she was male?" Honestly, for a split second there, Tsuna had to repress the urge to laugh. Byakuran had brainwashed everyone in accepting his convoluted beliefs, hadn't he?

"I had a sex change," Tsuna decided, pursed her lips together to hide her mirth. Yuni chuckled, vibrating in place with her childish energy despite the previous workout.  
"But seriously, I've heard lots about you from Byakuran, onee-san. Is it true that you almost burnt down your kitchen?" Innocent eyes blinked up at her. It was well that Tsuna had gotten over the trauma of that particular instance (because the other had overwritten it) or she probably would have ended back in that downwards spiral called depression. She had, however, so she simply fixed upon her countenance a smile.

"Your brother spoke true. I did. Are you any good at cooking?" Tsuna interrogated, folding her hands together over her knees as she leaned over in Yuni's direction.  
Yuni shook her head with a despondent smile. "I don't know. I've never tried to -probably so I cannot burn down the kitchen." Tsuna pouted at her teasing, which managed to startle Yuni into chuckling again.

"You should come over again sometime," Yuni decided with a firm nod of her head, and skipped from the bench, twisting herself around to face them. She folded here hands behind her. "I think you're a really good person, onee-san."

Tsuna took a double take. Whoa, that had been rather fast! Tsuna hadn't even really been in her presence for more than a half a hour.  
"Likewise," she coughed instead, pulling at her collar in queasy embarrassment. "I'll come over whenever I have some free time." So always, since she didn't really have any responsibilities taking over all of her time.

Yuni strode over, insistently taking her hand. "Let me introduce you to my mother, first." Tsuna allowed the four-year-old to pull her to her feet, before she glanced to the side, at Byakuran. He gestured helplessly, mouthed 'play along,' which wasn't very useful, and waved at her with a horrified face as they left the dojo, almost bringing Tsuna to second thoughts on whether or not she should meet this 'Aria.'

Aria, after one look of Tsuna, decided she was fit to be Yuni's playmate. Those were the most intense .nanoseconds of her life. Aria was actually pretty intimidating. She left the house after promising to hang out with the two siblings at a later note. Before she did, Yuni threatened with a smile smile to hold her hostage. That family was extreme.

Her first meeting with Hibari Kyoya had been a disaster, but not in the way one would expect. She'd actually gotten along with the ill tempered boy, when Hana introduced her to him. Apparently he was something like Hana's cousin, which was rather unexpected. Personally, Tsuna couldn't see the family resemblance. No, it was mainly the circumstances surrounding the whole meeting that had come back to bite them (figuratively, and ironically) in the neck.

It began with Hana's insistence that she come tag along to a family meeting of hers. "Come on," Hana muttered, "We've been friends for two years now. It's kind of awkward for me that you haven't been approved by the family yet." Hana was very family orientated. Like, Hayato-very which was very indeed. Tsuna, who Hana had an iron grip on, didn't have much of a choice as they trotted through Namimori's wide alleyways.

Well, alright, she did. She kind of liked Hana's bright expression, though. Over the course of a year, ever since Hana's mother had died, a permanent frown had been taking over the girl's face and repressing her natural beauty. It was a shame.

"The family will like you though," Hana chirped over her shoulder at the one she was dragging along, outside of her will. "I can guarantee it." And there was another thing. When Hana spoke of her family, it wasn't about 'her' family. It was always 'the' family. As if her family warranted it. Maybe, Tsuna fancied while stumbling past a fruit vendor, maybe Hana was royalty. Then it would make sense for her family to warrant that annoying 'the.'

"What if they don't?" replied Tsuna cautiously, just as they only just avoided colliding with a woman laden by carrier bags. The woman made a rude gesture at them, so Tsuna flipped her the bird, to her scandalized gasp. _Hypocrite, _Tsuna thought critically and with a disgruntled expression. She was usually more polite than that (courteous to her soul, sometimes) but the woman had also been gesturing rudely at Hana, which was just unacceptable.

"They won't," Hana assured her, an easy grin having taken over her face in place of that dark frown, and though her eyes still contained shadows, they seemed to have diminished the tiniest bit. "Fine," Tsuna bit out, mock grumpy. Both of them knew she'd already given in the first time Hana had suggested it, or she would have already gotten out of Hana's clawed grip.

Speaking of claws, Hana had taken to letting her nails grow super long, so they were seriously like talons. Like, seriously. Tsuna let out a pained wince, and immediately the talons were replaced with cool air. Tsuna glanced down to see that Hana had shifted her hand, so her palm was resting against Tsuna's wrist instead of those nails of hers digging into them.

"You should be careful about greeting everyone, though," Hana admitted as she turned the corner after they passed the Takesushi restaurant. She sent it a wistful glance - if only Yamamoto could appear right now with some convenient excuse that would release Tsuna of her required social dues. But he did not, and her shoulders sagged woefully. Apparently Yamamoto couldn't receive signals telepathically, or maybe he could, but it was Tsuna who wasn't telepathic. That figured.

Hana noticed Tsuna's woeful state of being from the corner of her eye, and thumped her on the back. "Cheer up, you already know about all kinds of protocol, so I'm sure it won't be a problem for you to apply your social graces into practise." Tsuna tilted her chin up to study the sky and the many clouds floating across of the clear blue and considered.  
"There's that," she admitted sourly and scuffed at the weather worn pavement beneath her toes.

"See?" Hana chirped, all sunshine and daisies and overblown optimism. Tsuna grinned back, despite herself, before something occurred to her.  
"You're saying I'm meeting the family, but how many people will actually be there?" Since it was a family meeting, quite a lot, Tsuna would think. Tsuna scrunched up her nose pondering, and stuffed a hand into her pocket (the other Hana still held hostage.)

Hana skipped between garbage bins at either side of the alley, before answering. "A lot, I suppose. Like, really, really a lot." She gestured animatedly with her hands and Tsuna had a brief flashback of nine years old Hana.  
"So you have a lot of nieces and nephews?" Because that would explain the whole lot of family members Hana was trying to get across.

Hana gifted her with a flat look, almost tripping over a stray cat due to that move, "Cousins, yes. But I also have lots of uncles." She thought better of it with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "Sorta." She gestured helplessly with a shrug.  
"Sorta?" Tsuna pressed as her eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe. How could someone 'sorta' have a lot of uncles? Tsuna was starting to get a strange feeling about this all.

"Kind of," Hana murmured, sheepishly. In a gesture obviously copied from Tsuna, she scratched the area of skin just above her collar, her nervousness coming to fore and almost palpable in the air. Tsuna watched her for a beat. Hana looked away first.  
"Ah, whatever. I don't care," Tsuna decided once she saw that Hana was starting to retreat back into her shell. "I'll find out soon, in any case."

They eventually reached their destination; a rather spacious building which had been furnished in the traditional Japanese manner, with _tatami_ mats (bamboo woven mats) and sliding doors. Outside, around a perimeter of five metres, rather intimidating guards had been stationed who nodded at Hana in a friendly manner. Tsuna whistled to herself. Maybe Hana wasn't royalty, but she surely had to be from a family with some renown, to be able to afford guards like that.

Hana took her time exchanging pleasantries with one man in particular, who wore his suit smartly, was clean shaven, and the proud owner of a mop of curly charcoal-brown hair. Once they entered the premise, Hana rested her shoulder against Tsuna's. "That was uncle Mizuhi," she divested in a conspirational whisper. Hana was beaming. "He's cool." Well, someone had a crush. Wait, -wasn't he her uncle? Now Tsuna was confused.

Hana giggled breathlessly in her ear, before she flounced (flounced!) a few steps forwards. They left the hallway behind after switching their flip-flops for geta. Beyond the hallway was the living room, which was sectioned off from the other rooms through _shoji_, the sliding doors. As was traditional, there was a tea cabinet stationed inside of it. The room was full with members of Hana's family. Tsuna was starting to get claustrophobic. Hana led her left, through the sliding doors and into another hallway (the Japanese liked their hallways.)

They entered another room, which had been furnished with a low table and cushions in the place of chairs. All the people inside this room were already sitting, and there were two cushions left open for them to seat themselves. Tsuna, grimacing at the heavy atmosphere, did so at Hana's behest. There was another child sitting a bit further along the table. He looked a bit older than them, a foul scowl on his face.

Introductions began, though it was mainly Tsuna being introduced and new family members who hadn't yet been at a meeting before, like the one year old baby or some grizzled old man. Strange. The baby made sense, but the grizzled old man certainly didn't. Tsuna took careful note of who exactly was being treated with the utmost respect, and who wasn't, and bowed the lowest or the least low depending on which. Hana approved with a discreet thumb up.

"Why is everyone drinking sake?" Tsuna whispered innocuously, resting her shoulder on Hana's. This was a rather weird family meeting. Tsuna's had never been to any like this, in any incarnated self.  
"Because," Hana whispered back, and elbowed her to get her to stop whispering. Tsuna winced, clutching her side as if she'd been delivered a fatal blow. Apparently the children in the room were meant to be seen, not heard. Tsk tsk. Tsuna disapproved on principle. Tsuna starts to listen in on the conversations around her.

Eventually, the children get sent out of the room, but by then it had occurred to a shell shocked Tsuna how Hana could have a crush on her uncle. He wasn't truly her uncle, just like how Hibari Kyoya (Mr scowly-face) wasn't exactly her cousin. That was because in some crime syndicates, members are addressed by familial terms. Hana's father was the boss of the local Yakuza. Whaaaaat?

"Whaaat?" Tsuna voiced her thoughts to Hana as the entered the garden, Hibari prowling before them.  
"Hmm?" Hana replied, as if everything was normal, as if the family (and it certainly was _the _family) being a yakuza syndicate was perfectly normal. Why was Tsuna even allowed to know about this? Why was Hana so confident that her family would like Tsuna? Wait, could it be!?  
"Do they know my father is in the Italian mafia?" was blurted out without her conscious permission, before Tsuna got a hold of herself and slapped her hand in front of her mouth, eyes ballooning three times their size (but not, like, literally or anything. That would be bad.)

"It's not as if Iemitsu is very subtle about his supervision over you," Hana ascertained and crouched down to smell the roses in their flowerbeds. She was acting as if she hadn't just shattered Tsuna's world view. So Hana knew Iemitsu was in the mafia, when Iemitsu himself hadn't yet told her, his daughter, that he was? Rather than that stinking lie about the vigilante group? Absolutely unbelievable. Though, yes, those suited people weren't the most inconspicuous of watchers.

Tsuna sighed and folded her arms, looking over to where Hibari was practising some martial arts, armed with a pair of tonfa. It was kind of cool (he had some mad skillz) and she was actually starting to think about investing in some martial arts herself. Byakuran was obviously doing something illegal, Hana was in the Yakuza, and her other friend was in the Italian mafia... Eventually, there was no way she would be able to keep herself in the fringes as she was now.

She was about to walk over to Hana, to ask her whether or not she was being trained in any sort of skill, when she saw something _quiver_ and undulating from the corners of her eyes. A _"what?"_ was prised on the tip of her tongue, and Hibari was there, and he was pushing her to the ground, and there was a high pitched whine cutting through the air. Oh fuck. Hana.

Tsuna rolled out from under Hibari, squinting through the dust cloud enveloping the whole garden and probably the street, too. She raised her voice; "HANA?" But she stayed put where Hibari was. Whatever had just happened -it was still happening. She could see shapes move through the indistinct cloud and a lot of other shapes appear from where she judged the entrance to the building to be. She didn't know which was which, and her ears seemed to have lost their ability to hear. Definitely the result of a sonic grenade, then.

Eventually a figure broke from the cloud to join them. It was a severe looking teenager with intense scars covering most of his upper body. He looked around after only seeing them two. "Where's Hana-sama?" he asked, after a moment, and fixed Tsuna with an expectant look. Tsuna, put out, could only shake her head and point at Hibari; maybe he knew. But Hibari grunted a negative, and a scowl appeared upon the adolescent's face, before he was charging back from where he came from.

Tsuna shared a look with Hibari as sounds of gunfire permeated the fog, before both of them ducked for cover. Hibari seemed raring to go; there was an excited grin on his face. He didn't leave his perch despite this, however, and Tsuna suspected it was because Tsuna was there, utterly defensive, and as a friend of Hana's, Hibari was duty bound to protect her and all.

Tsuna covered her head with her elbows protectively and rolled towards where she knew the house was. She had no idea whether she was charging into the fray or out of it, but she had to at least try and escape her predicament. Hibari glared at her, discontent with that plan, but didn't try to stop her. Instead, his eyes moved towards the two figures near him who's silhouettes were becoming sharper as a consequence of the fog clearing.

He lifted his tonfa in tense anticipation, and rose to a crouch; there was a steely glint in his flint grey eyes. The enemies came ever closer.

A/n I leave thou with a cliffhanger, at it is my right as birthday girl!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter ten.

And the two turned out to be not enemies at all, but more yakuza members worried about Hana. Hibari made a sound of disappointment in the back of his throat, before he decided to take on the few people left scattered in the garden who definitely were enemies. Without the fog, everything was much clearer, such as the guns the people wielded.

Hibari charged them with much zeal, striking out with his right tonfa, and he hit the auburn-haired guy on the knee while he'd been distracted by the much more dangerous yakuza members shooting at his companions. In broad daylight. Why wasn't the police here? The struck man collapsed like a pack of cards, and Hibari was already moving, and smashed his elbow (including tonfa) into the second person's groin area.

Tsuna pushed herself to her feet. She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hanaaa?" she shouted, backing into the brick wall of the building. It was still dangerous out there, after all; that, and she could smell the acrid scent of newly killed corpses start to infect the area. She very carefully did not look down, still hunting for Hana, busily distracting herself.

The fog was now completely gone. Hibari brought down his leg, crushing his opponents nose in one sharp movement. He was smiling, breathing heavily, and his face had been splattered with blood. Tsuna glanced towards him, decided he did not need help (not that she would have been able to help him if he did) and shouted for Hana a second time.

Eventually that same teenager stomped towards her, and he circled his fingers around her wrist, and then he was marching of with her in tow back inside the building. She could hear, distantly, one of the yakuza members making his report; "There were four casualties...Hana's still missing...Vongola men are helping with the clean-up..." before they entered a room and the door was closed behind them and effectively cut away the sound from beyond it.

The teenager dropped her wrist like it was something contagious, and turned to face her, scowling darkly. "Stay here," he told her (_where it is safe_ was left unmentioned.) "Your father is coming to pick you up." Tsuna linked her fingers underneath her chin. She hummed something vague that could be taken as agreement. There was no window in the room.

The teenager turned his back to her, hand poised over the door knob. "You," he said, low in his throat, almost like a growl but not rough enough. He still had a boy's voice. He suddenly looked young, now that she couldn't see his face or the multitude of his scars. "Left Hana, because of you, she's..." he couldn't bear finish his sentence, and instead, he left her behind in that claustrophobic-narrow room.

Tsuna gritted her teeth. She was a non-combatant. What did he even expect? That she was to be so reckless that she wouldn't take the protection Hibari so freely offered? Besides, it was offer before Tsuna had been truly aware of it. Hibari's actions had taken the choice from her, and rightly so. The way she was now, she would have done something stupid to bring attention on herself and not only get Hana missing, but also Hibari endangered.

Of course, this didn't help the guilt gathering in the pit of her stomach, or weighing down her shoulders, or currently gifting her with a pulsing headache. She massaged her head, rubbing her knuckles against her temples, but it didn't ease. And so it shouldn't. Tsuna had been in fights before, in her previous lives. She'd even been in a gang once. That had been her fourth life, actually, and not that long ago.

She'd just thought that she wouldn't have to fight for her livelihood, and for that of others, now that she had parents that loved her, now that she lived in a more (thought not for definite) peaceful era. Make love, not war, right? Apparently she shouldn't have allowed her optimism it's way. Still, she didn't really know any fighting arts, mainly because she'd never really fought, like, with a definite structure to it.

It was mainly all improvised street fighting, and yeah, some kendo (or rather, fencing) though the latter had occurred mainly under supervision and had been nothing more than a hobby she'd been forced into due to overbearing relatives from her third life. She'd been more comfortable fighting with her fists, in any case. Said fighting had been under pretty extreme circumstances, though, so she'd never learnt to enjoy it, like Hibari certainly seemed to. Fighting for your life kind of took the fun out of it.

Father came to pick her up ten minutes later and they drove home in utter silence.

It was at the safety of home ground that Iemitsu decided to have a conversation with her. The topic; Vongola. Apparently, now that she had a friend in the yakuza, he'd reasoned that she'd find out about his occupation too, since Vongola was kind of famous, and all. So he'd decided that it was better heard from the horses' mouth than from some misinterpreting stranger's.

Too late, Tsuna thought cynically to herself, as she slouched against the leather sofa located inside the lounge. It was mainly the fact that he wouldn't have told her himself if there was no way that she wouldn't come to know about it from some other source that stung her. That meant that he had not and still didn't trust her. That he would have continued lying to her, where things different. She sat there with a scowl, and kicked behind her at her seat, annoyed with herself and her feelings on the situation, but mainly annoyed at Iemitsu and his trust issues.

"But it's true that the Vongola was a vigilante group, once," Iemitsu blabbed on, though Tsuna had long lost interest in listening. "And also, we do do drug-busts and charity work!" And? Did he think that this was enough to turn Tsuna away from her hard won moral code? He must be joking. Tsuna rolled her eyes as he talked about how her 'grandfather' was actually his boss, and in charge of the crime syndicate. Tsuna had gathered that a looong, looong time ago.

"So, what do you say? Your papa's so romantic, isn't he?" Iemitsu asked, switching over to talking about himself in third person. How childish. Tsuna grimaced, and swept her agitated hands through her fluffy hair.  
"I already knew about this," she decided to go with truth, since she didn't want to stay a hypocrite. She watched his countenance intently for his reaction, positive or not.

Iemitsu didn't look surprised. What an anticlimax. "It was Hayato, wasn't it?" he questioned with a put out sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. "I should have warned him not to, but it never occurred to me." Just like it had never occurred to him to tell her all about it, right? Well, he didn't seem too displeased with the state of affairs, so he must be confident that Hayato wouldn't fudge up her first impression of the Vongola, considering he was a bit of a fan boy, of the first generation in particular.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Iemitsu pressed once all was said and done.  
"I haven't so far," Tsuna admitted. And then she glanced out of the window. "Mom's here."

That put a definite halt to the subject.

"Hana's still missing," Tsuna declared miserably. "Though the yakuza knows where she'd being held, they've decided it's too dangerous for them to barge in that easily, as they could decide to use Hana like a meat shield." She pulled back her arm, before she struck out at the wall. "Ouch," she muttered, rubbing her newly reddened knuckles. Anger lit her honey eyes, and she found it in herself to give the wall another punch, despite the pain.

So now the Yakuza were at a standstill concerning saving Hana. But Tsuna didn't want to take so long that the kidnappers might decide to do away with the girl. There was no if or buts about it. She was going to safe Hana, if the family were too chicken to do so themselves. Besides, since she wasn't truly a part of the family, she'd probably be able to go and safe Hana by going incognito, so that her enemies wouldn't act rashly in response. But doing so on her own wasn't safe, and besides, this body was frail, was weak. She had to get herself some allies; maybe her friends would be up to it?

The idea seemed tempting to her. Tsuna closed her eyes and forced her breathing rate to decrease back to normal. She returned her arm to her side, opening her eyes again. Yes, no doubt about it. That was the best solution. Now, she only had to go and visit her friends and suggest it to them. Surely Hayato would readily agree to helping her, considering what loyal of a friend he was, although he wasn't friends with Hana? But what about Yamamoto?

Tsuna walked over to the sink, to fill herself a cup of water. She felt Yamamoto's gaze like a heavy, physical thing digging through her spine. He'd been silent so far; just letting her vent. He must have noticed the resolution that had appeared in her eyes, however, and was now waiting for her answer. She splashed a hand full of water into her face, the cool liquid running down her ears and dribbling down her chin, soaking the few strands of hair clinging to the sides of her face.

The problem was, that Yamamoto was the only normal (well, kinda) person that she had befriended. Byakuran was obviously too crafty and too knowledgeable about that weird power to be a normal person. Hayato was a part of the Italian mafia, if not Vongola per say, and Shoichi was friends with Byakuran, which had to a statement of criminal activity of some kind. So, could she rely on him for help with this task? Was it even fair of her to do so?

Tsuna slid her hands through her fringe, smoothing it over the rest of her hair and out of her face. A bitter smile briefly flashed across her face, before she turned to face the one leaning against the island. Golden brown eyes gazed expectantly back into hers. Then again, she thought, noticing the amount of trust he held for her, was it right of her not to? She took a quick gulp from her glass, breaking eye-contact with him.

She trailed her fingers over the rim of her porcelain cup; "You know, I'm thinking that maybe, if the family's hands are tied, we could save Hana in their stead?" She peeked over at Yamamoto from behind her lashes. She'd decided that, come what may, it wasn't fair of her to with-hold information, even if it wasn't good for him. To be human was to have free will. The free will to make their own decisions based on the information they had at their pursuit. Yeah. This was the best decision she could have made.

"Yup!" Yamamoto assured, in complete agreement. He leaned over the table top towards her. "Gokudera's coming along too." As if that was ever in question. She inclined her head in wordless affirmation, and placed her cup onto the counter.

They left the building in search for Hayato's whereabouts.

They visited Hayato's house and came face to face with his 'caretaker' the man from whom Hayato had gotten his hairstyle, which was a factual imitation of it. "Hayato's not here right now," he told them at the doorway. He then zeroed in on Tsuna, and more specifically, the evidence that Tsuna was a woman, however young.  
"Hah, he's doing well for himself, I see." The man snorted, looking away and off into the distance. Tsuna's lips curled in distaste. This was Hayato's caretaker?

Seriously?

"Where do you suggest he went?" Yamamoto asked, politely, though his eyes were sharp with an underlying threat; a warning to stop making his friend feel so uncomfortable. Shamal took his time answering (to the children's combined chagrin) but when he did, it was to point at a spot in the distance.  
"He's restocking his bombs right at the moment." And that was so difficult to say, because? This person seemed to enjoy getting on their nerves.

"Let's just leave," Tsuna suggested of Yamamoto, wearily eyeing Shamal from the corner of her eyes. He probably wouldn't even tell them where exactly Hayato could be found, restocking his dynamite or not. He created such an impression. Besides, they could always gather them at a more opportune time. For now, they could go onwards and fetch Byakuran.

And so they did.

Byakuran's house wasn't that far away and they reached it within twenty minutes. It was also close to their park, so they'd be able to return there to have a tactical meeting about saving Hana. Tsuna rapped the wooden door with her knuckles, and rested back on the balls of her feet, waiting for her knock to be answered.

It was a groggy Shoichi that answered, like they'd just woken him from a nap. It was the middle of the afternoon, though, so that was unlikely. Yamamoto lifted a hand in welcome. "Hey, is Byakuran-san in?" Because Shoichi and Byakuran were such good friends it was just as typical that the teen would leave Shoichi inside on his lonesome while he attended to some errands of his. Tsuna wondered absently whether Yuni was in, and glanced past Shoichi to look inside of the house. She wasn't standing in the hallway, at any rate.

"Yes, I'll call him over," Shoichi told them reassuringly, and then glanced back, cupping hands around his mouth. "BYAKURAAAN!" There was a beat of silence, before Tsuna's bat ears picked up footsteps coming closer from inside the house, before Byakuran turned the corner and into the hallway, coming into view. He waved at Tsuna from around Shoichi, walking over to come stand at the door opening. There was a small smile decorating his face, as always.

"What do you need me for, Tsuna-chan?" Byakuran asked as Shoichi stepped away to allow him more space. He folded his arms over his chest, giving them all assessing looks with his curved eyes. "You don't look good. Did something happen?" Tsuna clapped her hands behind her back, lips forming a thin line.  
"That's right," she announced briskly. "A friend of mine is in trouble. We're going to get her back." She leaned forwards a bit, fluttering her eyelashes, honey eyes beguiling. It was obvious that she meant what she was asking; that he be part of that 'we'.

"Oh, in trouble?" he asked, then made a show of looking around to see who was missing from the group. "Hayato-kun?"  
Tsuna shook her head derisively, fluffy spikes hitting her shoulder as she did so.  
"Nah. He's out. We'll go find him later." She gestured for him to come along, and he did so without prelude. There was a curious light in his eyes.

Now that that was done, Tsuna absently wondered whether she should consider asking Hibari for help, too. He was technically a part of the family and as such, his hands were just as tied as theirs was, but he was also a youngster, so surely he would be able to join in with the incognito? She kicked a stone across the street with the tip of her high top sneakers.

And if she remembered correctly, outside of helping Tsuna when she needed it, and fighting those two enemies, he hadn't really done much when they had been under attack. So maybe the enemies hadn't taken note of him? That was a bit too much to assume, though. But he was strong, and they definitely needed people with power for her as of yet not finely detailed plan to succeed.

"So, any one else going to join the rescue team?" Byakuran asked from behind her. She glanced at him from around her shoulder.  
"Maybe," she gave him her answer with a fluid shrug, non-committable. Then inspiration struck.  
"Hey, you guys, do you know some people who would be willing to help us? Oh, and don't stand out too much?"

Byakuran pursed his lips in thought. "I would," he considered, "If you told me more about the situation." She winced, reminded that she had just dragged him along without fully explaining it. That had been spectacularly rude of her. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.  
"Weeelll," she dragged out, before sighing and gesturing to Yamamoto to explain. He was better at public relations anyway and knew all about it, as her confidante.

Tsuna glanced at her still reddened knuckles, with Yamamoto's soothing voice as background noise while he explained the situation. Yes, Hibari would be a valuable ally to have, and considering he was part of the family, she knew he wouldn't back down where it concerned Hana's safety. He might even had a clue on who the enemies are; something Tsuna didn't even know, as well as the whereabouts of them. She curled her fingers into fists, staring at her lack of calluses. Yes, she was definitely going to attend some sort of dojo once this was over and done with.

Yamamoto finally finished talking and Byakuran turned to give her a sympathetic look.

A/N So, when a friend of mine scrapes together enough money, I am getting a new laptop as a belated birthday present! Yes! Sweet! I'll definitely feel more up to writing, then, considering I wouldn't have to deal with this scrappy, small, rubbish thing I have now. Anyway, yes, I've reached more than fifty followers! Wooh! I feel so proud of myself! So thanks a lot, you guys. :) For the favouring and the reviewing, too! I like constructive criticism as well though, so don't be shy to tell me how you really feel about this story of mine.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer; Don't own.

Chapter eleven.

"That's unfortunate," was Byakuran's opinion. "I'll definitely help out." She gave him a grateful bow.  
"Thank goodness." Now that she had Byakuran's consent, she'd probably best go round Hana's place, to meet up with Hibari.  
She gave her two friends assessing looks. It would be best if she went along, since Hibari hadn't come across to her as the type who liked crowding.

Afterwards, she should go see Gokudera - by that time, he should have already returned home. Yamamoto interrupted her trail of thought by placing a concerned arm round on her shoulder. "We should go fetch Gokudera," he suggested, because he didn't know about Hibari. She shrugged of the arm.  
"Not yet. I was still asking you guys whether or not there were people who could help us, remember?"

"That's right," Yamamoto affirmed, and then closed his eyes to think. Eventually he hit his open palm with a fist. "Aha, I know of someone! Sasagawa-sempai; that boxer!" It struck Tsuna whom he meant after the required thinking of Kyoko.  
"Kyoko's older brother?" she asked, frowning doubtfully. He hadn't seem that dependable; but maybe he was?

"I know about him," Byakuran confided in them. "He's a good guy. You would want him on your side." Mayhap, was Byakuran's job, being a professional stalker? They would never know. Tsuna walked around a van, deciding that if both of her friends had only good things to say of him, maybe she should give the older Sasagawa a try. He was also a pretty good boxer, and while it was true that being good at sports don't often translate in being good at fighting, surely that was different if the sport was boxing?

"Alright," Tsuna decided with a shrug. "Let's pay him a visit, then." She had memorised Kyoko's address despite never having a good enough excuse to come visit her. That was rather creepy of her, wasn't it? Yamamoto nodded his head loftily, as they changed directions, from going towards the park, to going towards the Sasagawa household. "What kind of person is Sasagawa-sempai?" she asked, glancing towards Byakuran for his advice.  
"He's very extreme," he stated wryly. Tsuna tilted her head, interested despite herself.

Neither of her friends would elaborate further though. Yamamoto promising; "You have to see it to believe it!" And she sighed in exasperation, shaking her head as she accepted to link her arms together with Byakuran. They walked for some three blocks before they reached the Sasagawa house. It was a cheerful ooking cottage, with a well tended garden placed in the front. It was a house with a flat roof, pained white.

Tsuna liked the look of it; had always liked the look of it. She glanced back at her friends, gesturing towards the house and the stone path leading to the doorway. "Say, Yamamoto, do you want to do the talking?" Because she didn't want to open the door on the slightest chance that it was Kyoko opening the door rather than her brother Ryohei. That would be the most awkwardest thing possible. Besides, she hadn't met Sasagawa-sempai face to face yet; it would be rude of her to ask for his help.

Yamamoto looked at her for a second with intense, searching golden brown eyes, before he sped up his pace, and was the walking in front of them and up to the house. He pressed the doorbell and settled down to wait. It was Sasagawa-sempai who opened up, as luck would have it.  
"Yo Yamamoto-san," the teen greeted, and his tone of voice stood friendly. He blinked over Yamamoto's shoulder to where Tsuna and Byakuran were lurking and greeted them too - with a wave.

Yamamoto quickly explained the situation to him. Sasagawa nodded thoughtfully, but didn't seem to process most of what was being said, thought that changed when Hana's name was mentioned. "That's Kyoko-chan's extreme friend, hey!" he shouted in complete outrage. After that, he did an about-face and now thoroughly interrogated Yamamoto on the details. He was definitely going to join their rescue party now.

That sounded kinda selfish to Tsuna. He wasn't willing to help, unless where Kyoko was concerned? But then again, she thought to herself as she tapped her sneakers against the stone of the pavement, it was rather selfish of herself for dragging everyone in like this. And that was only because Hana was her friend. If it was some stranger, she wouldn't have bothered. Perhaps, she thought, raising her chin to gaze at Sasagawa-sempai, honey eyes glittering strangely as they caught the sun. Perhaps, they were the same?

So, now with Sasagawa-sempai in tow or rather - "Call me big brother!" - though Tsuna most definitely wasn't going to call him that, they left the scene to go back to Hayato's house. He was probably there now, considering that it was starting to reach the early evening by then. It was good that he'd just stocked up on bombs, though, as they might come in handy for the rescue mission, depending on the circumstances.

This time, it was Hayato who met them at the house rather than Shamal (thank goodness) and they could immediately move on from his house to recruit their next ally for the rescue mission. "Hibari?" yamamoto questioned, tilting his head to the side like an adorably confused koala bear, because why not. "Is he a good guy?"

It was good for him to question that, because Tsuna had no idea either. She would love to say that Yakuza members were evil incarnate and for there to be no exceptions, but she'd lived far too long now for her to continue with such delusions. Besides, Hana was also from the family, but Tsuna hadn't immediately put her down as a bad guy. Then again, there was something about Hibari's battle readiness that made Tsuna's skin crawl. How frightening.

So in the end, Tsuna just shrugged non-committable and let that do the talking. Byakuran, though, decided to add his two cents on the topic of Hibari Kyouya's morale character, or lack thereof. "He's a wild child, alright. Rather inelegant in his ways. Mou, Tsuna-chan, do we really _have to_ bring him into the folds too?" He pouted, though his eyes were laughing.  
Tsuna glanced at him with an arched eyebrow. "I am getting the feeling that you are biased against him, somehow." His only reaction was a lopsided grin.

In the end, it was decided that Tsuna would go on her own to invite Hibari, since he didn't like crowds.

"And what is going to stop me from telling the rest of the family about your plan?" Hibari briskly interrogated once they'd removed themselves far enough from the vicinity of his location so that they wouldn't be overheard. Tsuna wrinkled her nose, disgruntled about how difficult he was being.  
"Because, my plan would be good for you, too," she answered after a moment's pause, so that she kept a cool head and didn't show how much Hibari was starting to affect her.

He arched in eyebrow, intrigued at the possibilities she offered after a few minutes talking. "Fine, I'll join, but on one condition." She tilted her head to the side in wordless inquisition.  
"If this plan of yours does pan out, and you can get to Hana, even if I or your other allies are in trouble, leave with her. She's the important daughter of the oyabun, after all." This was something Tsuna utterly refused to do, though she did not tell him this. She nodded instead, forcing her face into an unfeeling mask so he couldn't see through the lie.

No matter how optimistic it was of her, if such a situation did come to hand, she was planning to help her friends while at the same time protect Hana from those who wished her harm. It was drastically optimistic of her to even think that such an opportunity would come at hand, though, and that she would be able to make a difference, as unfit as this body of hers was.

And so Hibari joined the rescue team (though he would stay where he was until he was notified that they were going to start the rescue mission, since he didn't want to crowd.) Tsuna felt rather relieved now that she knew someone so dependable was part of the team. All the same, however, there was the fact that the rival gang held control over firearms, and even Hibari wasn't bulletproof. Neither were any of her friends, or herself, but that went without saying.

It was already getting dark. Tsuna glanced upwards, calculating the angle of the sun. She'd better hurry and recruit Hayato then. She inclined her head in farewell to Hibari (who didn't do anything back) and then jogged away from the intersection.

This time it was indeed Hayato who opened the door, and his face lit up when he noticed Tsuna on his doorstep, despite the late hour. It went without saying that Hayato agreed.

So, early in the morning, found the whole group (Sasagawa-sempai, Hayato, Yamamoto, Irie Shoichi and Byakuran) holding a tactical meeting inside the park. First, they talked about tech support.  
"I'm rubbish with computers," Byakuran assured them all, egregiously smiling as he clapped Shoichi on the shoulder. "For that sort of stuff, I rely on Sho-chan, right, Sho-chan?" The other nodded in complete puppet like obedience. It was kind of creepy, actually.

"I could support him," Hayato added, looking to the side with something akin to reluctance dragging his lips downwards. Tsuna ending up shaking her head, though, since he certainly wasn't someone they could waste on that.  
"You're part of the assault team," she dictated and balanced more of her weight onto the tree she was leaning against. "Speaking of which, do you only have explosives suited for offense or also those for support?"

Hayato frowned and rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet in feverish contemplation. Eventually, he visibly brightened like a light bulb had just gone up. "No, actually. I only have my dynamite at hand, but I don't have a full stock because the suppliers didn't have my full order. So, they offered me some other support based explosives, but I turned them down."

Tsuna immediately ordered him to return and see whether that offer still lay on the table. "Flashbangs and sleeping grenades would be preferable."  
Hayato sped of like an overzealous cultist who'd just gotten news of a real life sighting of a particular god they happened to worship. That was a rather apt description, Tsuna couldn't help think, as she watched him leave. Hayato did take his loyalty towards her a bit too seriously.

The meeting was postponed until he could return, as the best plan was based upon the resources they had at hand, and they wouldn't know that for sure until he came back with note of what kinds of explosives he now would have at his disposal.

Tsuna turned towards Yamamoto. It was a bit rude to just ask him in what way he could be useful, but she couldn't exactly not ask him just for the sake of politeness. He smiled wanly back at her like he understood it perfectly. "I'm good at baseball?" he offered with a shrug. "I'm not at school work though, ahaha." He seemed very casual about it, though Tsuna herself felt like the world was ending when she had a bad grade (but then, she had a reason as someone who'd lived consecutively for six times. She should be able to do her schoolwork by now).

Still, Tsuna was abruptly met with a flashback of that time he'd almost caved in her forehead with an egregious throw while they had been playing baseball together. The throw had had a lot of power to it, and his accuracy with it was definitely through the roof, both when pitching and when throwing. Hmmm. She rubbed her hands together as she schemed. That had potential.

When Hayato returned, out of breath, it was with good news. He brandished the explosives victoriously and they all (well, okay, maybe only Byakuran) oohed and aahed at the sight of them. Tsuna was mainly worried that he would accidentally explode them all with his carelessness and ordered him to put the bombs away. He did so immediately and promptly, such that she couldn't even see where exactly on his body he'd stashed them away. Those were some dexterous fingers. Tsuna was impressed.

So, it was eventually decided that Shoichi was to hack into the cameras that were hanging inside of the warehouse (which was apparently owned by the Momoyoshi yakuza group which Byakuran had promptly nicknamed peach) and Yamamoto was to investigate the outer premises as the only one out of them all who was, at least externally, inconspicuous. He was, as Tsuna had deduced during their first meeting, the magnificent face of an average Japanese boy, of an average Joe.

Everything about him seemed typical, from the clothes he wore, to his build, to his haircut, to the game he played (baseball was the most popular sport in Japan, see?). There was the problem with his usual slightly spacy, more than attractive grin. So Tsuna designated Shoichi to coach Yamamoto on how to wear a neutral face, since he was an expert at that. Yamamoto tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve (it was obvious when he was angry, for one thing) so Shoichi was actually having some difficulty doing so.

"Put pressure on your mouth muscles," Shoichi reiterated for the nth time, completely exasperated, at a Yamamoto who wasn't wholly listening. "No, not like that!" Yamamoto was now pulling the weirdest of expressions. Tsuna's fingers itched with the urge to immortalize them on paper, but she hadn't taken her tools with her. Shame, that. Byakuran chuckled at her shoulder.

Eventually, Shoichi took it for the lost cause it had always been, and so Tsuna sent Yamamoto out to investigate the warehouse as someone 'who'd just been taking a jog.' Considering his fit stature, that was probably an excuse that would work if any of the enemies who were guarding the warehouse from the outside happened to ask. Meanwhile, Shoichi was sitting cross-legged in the shrubbery, his laptop balanced on top of his knees, his grey eyes reflecting the luminescence of the screen.

Tsuna squatted across from him, watching what he was doing with abject curiosity. She'd never been the most technologically advanced (since most of her lives took place during eras without technology's' comfortable presence saturating everything it came across) so it was all very fascinating to her. Eventually, she gave up, a headache thrumming behind her eyes. Apparently it was a bit too advanced for her. How disappointing.

Yamamoto returned with some good news. Apparently there was a small window on the back of the building, away from the entrance. "I think we can't use it to make our way inside, though," Yamamoto warned, pillowing his head with his arms. "Because its already a small window, and only opened five minutes per two hours, so that the people inside of the warehouse could have a smoking break.

"That's still good," Tsuna told him, with a thumbs up. "We can use this!" And they certainly could. If the window were only opened for that short a time every time, it probably meant that most of the Peach guys would be gathered there to smoke. A perfect time for an ambush, without any nasty surprises lying in store like reinforcements coming to the rescue.

"I could throw sleeping grenades through the gap?" Hayato offered, earnestly making eye contact with her. "Maybe not?"  
She cocked her head to the side. Yes, that was even better; to put them to sleep before they could even notice! Then, maybe they could get to Hana without the possibility that the poor girl would end up being used as a meat shield or the like.

"Definitely," she agreed and glanced over to Byakuran. She addressed him. "You'll be part of the assault team, right?" Byakuran didn't seem disinclined to this but then, it was rather difficult to read him, Tsuna had found. Then Tsuna herself was planning on being the one to guide Hana back to safety; Yamamoto could also act as part of the assault team, though she'd better arm him with some kind of projectile.

In the end, she gave Yamamoto a tennis ball to throw with when the time came.

A/n What can I say, when you have no inspiration, you have no inspiration. :P Sorry, loyal readers. Will you ever be able to forgive me?


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer; I own this! All of this! MWAHAHAAHAH! Except, of course, not Katekyo hitman Reborn itself. :(

They were at the warehouse, able to remain in contact with another due to the receivers in their ears. Byakuran, by his own saying, had happily splurged on them. "So," Tsuna said as she crouched low behind the wall of the building and out of eyesight of anyone who might be watching from the entrance of the warehouse. "What can you see, Irie-kun?" He'd hijacked the group's camera system in no time at all. The Peach group had to be made up of low ranking yakuza members; probably the 24th branch of some better one.

"A huge glob of people is at the ground platform of the warehouse," his confident voice crackled over the receivers. "There is another floor above that where Hana is being kept. Following along the staircase will bring you there." His voice took on a warning note. "Guards are patrolling the area there, too."

"Thanks for the intel," Tsuna told him with a hand over her receiver. She hesitated, then; "Can you see what state Hana is in?" If she was beaten up or in sullied in some other manner, Tsuna was perfectly willing to slit the enemies' throats rather than allowing them their snooze if plan A - lob some tranq bombs at them from the gap in the small window - would work. Even if her friends would attempt to stop her from doing so, or would see her different as a consequence, this she swore silently to herself.

There was a rustle and then there were sounds of keys being tapped. Then, Shoichi exhaled gustily but she could sense his relief. "She's fine, seemingly unharmed, though she doesn't look like she'd been sleeping well." Tsuna scowled to herself, her grip on the receiver tightening. She felt a light touch on her shoulder blade and twisted around to face whoever did that.

It was Yamamoto, and his grin reminded her a lot of the seemingly unassuming look of a dolphin before it eats its meal whole. He squeezed her shoulder, fingers massaging her tense muscles. "We won't let them get away with this, right Tsuna?" There was a promise in those suddenly narrow golden brown eyes of his. She relaxed despite herself and shot him with an answering twist to her lips.  
"Naturally," she met his eyes and squared her back.

She ripped her gaze from him and towards Hayato who had his back turned against her. He was tense - even tenser than she had been, actually - and he was already making his way towards the back of the warehouse, making sure not to come close to said building until at the very end so as to escape notice. His silver hair was a beacon in the darkness of the late night, and she chewed the inside of her cheeks, suddenly uncertain.

It was Byakuran this time who removed her from her hidden insecurity by bumping his shoulder against her, and flashing her a sly grin. "Isn't this exciting?" he questioned, and his voice had deepened since last she'd heard, maybe his enthusiasm coming out to fore. She shook her head in exasperation. Yes, this guy sure was sketchy. She liked him anyway, and frequently ignored the little inner voice screaming at her to run away over the hills, far far away where not even a GPS could find her. Tsk, as if such a limitation would even stop him.

"Yes," she said, her voice distant, squinting towards the metal door keeping the warehouse closed. "Very." Hayato was finally out of her line of sight, and her frown deepened. Their next line of action...was to wait for Hayato to light the signal and burst inside the steel trap of a door. To do that, Byakuran had taken with him a crowbar and had armed Yamamoto with it. His reasoning; "Yamamoto has the best upper body strength." ... Of whom?

It was true, though, that Yamamoto was the best equipped out of all of them to use the crowbar to break the lock. There was Hibari, who was there among them, studiously analysing the warehouse from afar. He hadn't joined in with the socialising, maybe because he didn't need it to keep his nerves in check. He looked to be at a calm readiness, like a snake before it latches onto it's prey. There was something strangely attractive about that readiness, Tsuna judged, with something close to envy.

She was torn from her contemplations as she noticed, from the corner of her eye, a bright flash. It was the signal. She turned towards her friends, but they were already moving. Apparently any further encouragement wasn't necessary. She followed in step with Yamamoto. And then then they were running, faster, faster, until he came at a stop and they were right there in the open. There wasn't any movement that she could see, from her peripheral vision. "Coast clear," Shoichi assured them.

Yamamoto began at the door as all of them waited, before Hayato caught up with them just as Yamamoto, in frustration, simply rammed the lock rather than bothering with the small gap of the mechanism in between the door and the doorway. It fell away and Hibari, impatient, pushed the heavily rusted door open.  
They were met with silence.

Tsuna, using Hibari's back as a cover, peeked over his shoulder at the interior of the warehouse. She could see about ten men and two woman lying on the floor at awkward angles, motionless. She could also see that most of them had grabbed their guns beforehand and that a few people had been shot in whatever chaos had ensued. They'd probably had no clue what those grenades had been for and as such their paranoia had done them in. None of her group, or Tsuna herself, bothered with any medical attention towards those who had been shot and were slowly running dry.

Not that Tsuna had remembered taking any first aid with her, which, in retrospect, had been incredibly dumb of her. The group entered the large space without any further hesitating. Tsuna's orange sneakers made scuff noises across the smooth stone. She gave the patches of blood a large berth as did Yamamoto and Hayato next to her. Hibari and Byakuran though, they didn't bother. Byakuran was wearing white; it'll probably stain. How careless

"The guards on floor two are beginning to move because of the commotion," Shoichi warned before they could even take their first step on the staircase. "S'at so?" Tsuna mumbled to herself. She gestured at her friends to find cover. The guards had firearms to their disposal, so it was quite probable that they would shoot first and ask questions later, once the group came into their line of sight.

There was a moment's silence, and then the dull metallic sound of steel broke it as someone's foot came into view, a guard appearing from the the stairs. He did indeed hold a gun in his hands, cautiously holding it in front of them, and then before he could take in the sight of the pandemonium that had occurred at ground level, Byakuran gave Yamamoto his tennis ball and said boy grew another personality as his baseball instincts took over. The ball smacked the guard right against his forehead, he made a breathy sound, and then keeled over.

"What was that?" A sharp voice called from above them, somewhere near from where the other guard had entered. The five of them exchanged looks from the safety of the shelter they'd individually chosen. Tsuna herself was crouched behind a couch, where a snoozing and heavy set person acted as a shield of sorts.

Another suited man came into view, accompanied by another more scrawnier boy. The man's reflexes were better than their previous opponent, as he didn't even consider standing there to see what was wrong and was ducking out of the way by the time that Yamamoto peered around a desk to lob his tennisball. Still, that could have ended badly for the two of them, if only Yamamoto had been aimed with explosives. Why hadn't Tsuna thought of it? She cursed her own inexperience.

The younger boy was too stunned to do anything but stand there, though, even as his companion aimed his gun at where Yamamoto's head had appeared, though he'd ducked away in time so the bullet did not glance him. Hayato had hidden himself near the staircase so he was situated somewhere at the back of the old man. So, as the man's back was turned towards him, he took the opportunity to lob some of his titular dynamites at the sandy-haired kid, where the other couldn't yell out a warning or shoot Hayato in the process.

The kid subsequently exploded without much fanfare and much smoke, obscuring his (obviously hideously burnt) corpse from view. That was good; Tsuna doubted even Hayato was mentally prepared enough to come across to the consequences of his own handiwork. The man backed away, apparently also taking his companion for dead, angling himself so he could see both Yamamoto's hideout and Hayato's direction in view. That meant he wasn't focusing on Tsuna, so she could probably attack now, if she'd armed herself with a throwing weapon. She cursed her decision now, watching the scarred man from behind her short lashes.

Meanwhile, the grating sound of the explosives having been used was enough to attract even more gang members from the first floor. They immediately opened fire on the open space, apparently concluding that at least one bullet could slip through some crack somewhere and impale them. Tsuna frowned to herself; why were they doing so, when their friends were also getting murdered because of their rash actions? It made very little logical sense.

Tsuna whispered; "Throw the smoke bombs. I'm going to slip through the find Hana," into her receiver, receiving only worrying static in response. She waited a tick, feeling a sick feeling to her stomach, worried that maybe Hayato had gotten hit. She knew Yamamoto and Byakuran were still alright, which was great, but even then . . . "Hayato, you there?" she'd raised her voice slightly and the scarred man's gaze immediately swung in her direction. She flinched, feeling her heart rate pick up like escalating drumming coming from underneath her skin.

Then, coughing. Loud, rough coughing, coming over the receiver. Finally, a tinny, ashamed voice. "I've been hit," and Tsuna's worst nightmare had come true. She felt herself spiraling through the empty space in between layers of matter, her mind eclipsing, and the peculiar feeling of being split into two as her older facet reached a hold of their consciousness and disallowed them from fainting, no matter how much the younger part tugged downwards to drown them both in premature despair.

And then it was over and she stood there mutely, blinking. Her voice, when it crackled over the receiver next, was completely at odds with what she'd just experienced. "Is the wound fatal?" a serene voice asked, and Tsuna blinked again at herself, feeling strangely lethargic.  
"No," Hayato replied, but he sure did sound weak. "I can still go on," he assured her after swallowing compulsively.  
Tsuna nodded to herself as if in confirmation. "Throw those smoke bombs then," she ordered. "Also, leave the premise after your done with that."

His voice was at a higher pitch, "What, why-" but then she'd switched the little button on the machine off and waited with strangely sharp eyes for smoke to engulf the room. Hayato seemed to realize he couldn't exactly shout across the room at her, thank goodness, so he did as he was told. Good. This was definitely not the time for any insubordination even if Hayato was technically only her friend, and not her minion or anything.

The shooting had stopped in the middle of Tsuna's freak out after one of the men had given the shooters a sharp order, apparently bequeathing the deaths of his comrades not to be worth their enemies. So it was easy for Tsuna to prowl around the area, keeping close to the walls, until she reached the staircase which no one was keeping an eye on considering the gang members thought they knew with absolute confidence that no enemy had hidden themselves there. Such hubris. It might have made Tsuna chuckle, if chuckling wouldn't have managed to break her cover.

She headed up until she'd reached the hallway. She peaked around the corner, but seeing no-one, continued down the hall until she reached a door. She had a certain way of knocking, one that Hana was rather familiar with, so she rapped with her knuckles against the wooden door and waited for an answer, hopefully not one involving a gun to the face.

_Of course, I tempted fate,_ Tsuna realized a split second before she took the opportunity to duck and ram her head into her freckled opponent's stomach, who's gun went off just above her head. Had Tsuna been even a minute late, that would have ended badly for her. Speaking of which, what was Shoichi doing? Wasn't he meant to warn them for enemies? Oh, -wait, she'd turned her receiver off. Resisting the urge to slap herself, Tsuna threw herself out of the way from her opponent's grasping hands, twisting another direction and coming face to face with Hana as a result.

The poor dear had been tied to a chair, and there were some dark bruises covering her chagrined face, which brightened with hope when she noticed who exactly her rescuer was going to be, before crumpling again as she yelled out a helpless warning with a voice hoarse of overuse. Tsuna only managed to twist around so that her shoulder was pointing in the direction of the freckled woman, who in the time it took for Tsuna to notice Hana, had recovered.

She cocked her gun, hands wrapped securely around the handle, before she pulled the trigger. It hit Tsuna in her shoulder; what had once been a probable headshot becoming something more manageable to deal with. Thank goodness for small mercies, Tsuna couldn't help but think even as she was thrown from her feet with the force of the shot. Before the cold blooded woman could shoot again, Hana addressed her, voice more than a little slurred in her terror.

"THAT IS **IEMITSU'_S _**DAUGHTER!" Hana stressed this with a wild glint in her eye, gesturing strongly for the woman to quit it, before it was too late. The freckled woman stopped dead, probably more from the sheer raise of volume on Hana's part than that she had processed what exactly Hana had just been saying and the connotations thereof. Tsuna understood what Hana was doing.

"That is exactly the case," Tsuna admitted with a cool shrug and very, verrrryyyy slowly raised her wrists to show that she wasn't holding any weapon of any kind, not really, so there was no reason to do away with her just yet and especially not if it would lead to a manhunt against her on Vongola's part. The woman paled a rather pasty shade of puce, before she slipped the gun into her belt where she could not use it.

Tsuna would have released a sigh of relief, except that she wasn't in the clear yet, and neither were her friends. The receiver was hidden behind her spiky mane of hair, but she knew that even if she did communicate with Irie-san, it wouldn't make much of a difference. No, she could only hope that he'd been able to see all that had happened in the room from the cameras stationed here and that backup was on its way. That was the only thing she could hope for as her cool head was starting to disappear as her two divided halves dissolved back into a liquid again.

Instead, she slung a hand over her wound which was copiously dribbling with blood, which was starting to pool in the crook of her elbow. The faint coppery smell was making her feel lightheaded (or maybe the loss of blood) and she felt herself sink to her knees and stay there, seeking eye-contact with Hana to assure herself the other was okay.

The woman bit her flower-petal lip, before she ended up retreating towards the cupboards (walking backwards, so she could still keep an eye on them two) and then bent her knees and swiped behind her for the first aid kit. It wouldn't do for the Vongola to die now that she'd decided not to do the deed, now was it? Tsuna, with a terse twist to her own lips, just hoped the woman had some anesthesia ready.

When the woman approached her again, it was when the door was thrown open and Hayato (Hadn't Tsuna order him to safety?) appeared, charging inside the room with his arm wrapped in a makeshift sling held together by safety pins. A first aid kit didn't exactly hold any real ones. He lobbed a grenade at the woman, who was far away that only some debris released from the blast could trouble them.

That's when he was untying Hana's bonds and winding an arm around Tsuna afterwards to help support her after Hana had shown herself to be capable of carrying her own weight. Tsuna was as well, but she couldn't feel bothered to swat his lean arm away, couldn't be bothered to do anything, actually. Her eyes were sliding shut and she mumbled something, probably a question about what had happened to her two other acolytes, and about Hibari. He spoke gruffly, "Worry about yourself first of all, Tsunayoshi-sama," and as she gave herself in to the languid feeling in her limbs, she really wished he'd called her by her name, Tsuna.

A/N Sooooo... How were the scenes? I did my best, which may have led to the loooonnnggg wait I had to put you guys through. :( Sorry gals 'n guys.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer; Don't own, my darlings.

Chapter 13.

"I had to throw tranq bombs to get to you," Hayato admitted with a sheepish shrug after she'd regained conscience. "All three of the others fell asleep." She was in the back of her father's car, who was keeping a close eye on them, but apparently letting Hayato be the one to explain what exactly had occurred. Hayato frowned deeply to himself, so the lines of his face grew much harsher and added, "Speaking of which, the pair of men who were supposed to keep watch on you have been executed for their carelessness."

Ah, so that's what had happened with her usual watchers. Having only just had a bullet removed, after which the wound had been thoroughly cleaned and wrapped, Tsuna was feeling very much lacking of any charity on her part. "And what about what happened after we exited the place?" she questioned, wondering when exactly Iemitsu had arrived during the rather brutishly dumb series of events. Hayato seem to brighten up, leaning avidly forward.

"The Yakuza stormed the place! Apparently Shoichi told them all about it when he heard over the receiver that I was shot. They waited until Hana was secured first, though." Tsuna didn't doubt that most of the comatose people inside got a reckoning they wouldn't forget even their next life over. Although, it was just as likely that the Peach group had become reincarnated into something as droll and pathetic as an ant, so nevermind that.

Then Hayato smiled with a wry twist of his lips. "That Hibari-san woke up way before the tranq bomb should have worn of and joined them." Yeah, that made sense for him to do, considering he hadn't been able to enjoy himself beforehand with some of that bloodshed he so liked. Still, though, that was impressive, considering Tsuna herself hadn't woken up until she'd already had been placed inside the car, and that after the car had safely driven of from the scene of the crime.

"So, about 'Hibari-san', has he received your respect?" Tsuna teased and enjoyed herself with the sight of her friend's red face as he firmly denied that that was the case. Such a tsundere. "Also, about your wound. . . " she glanced over to see that his arm had still been folded in his makeshift sling. Hayato's lips thinned, and he shook his head.

"I'm alright, this is nothing. Once I'm at Shamal, I'll get proper treatment. Treating your wound was most important of all." What, so her father hadn't been okay with treating his wound? Tsuna couldn't believe it. She shifted so she was sitting upright and glared, with narrowed eyes, at the mirror from which Iemitsu could see them. He caught her eye, pouting at the increased hostility she was simply oozing from every pore like a particular agitated kimono dragon.

"He was the one to convince me of that," Iemitsu lied, nodding with his forehead in Hayato's direction. "And who was I to say no to treating my absolutely perfect, adorable, sweet daughter." And now he was trying to suck up to her. Tsuna sighed, gingerly moving her shoulder before feeling a spike of pain and stopping in her tracks. She didn't like what Iemitsu was saying, not at all. All the same though, she knew that Hayato seemed to be willing to put himself into danger for her, so it was just as likely to be the truth.

"Alright," she confirmed, "Fine. I'll believe you. And Hayato, please put yourself before me in the future." He nodded, seemingly cowed, but there was a stubborn lock to his jaw that made her believe Hayato was still full of determination not to. Well, she supposed she could always work on him in the future. Fir now, she was still very tired. She nuzzled the leather exterior of the seats. Very very tired.

The car reached the Sawada household within five minutes, and Iemitsu carried his daughter inside, not even bothering with giving the other child a lift.

Tsuna found herself face to face with a worried mother when she woke up next. "What _were you doing_?" Mother burst out, wringing her hands like she was thinking of wringing Tsuna's neck. Tsuna could still see the worry in Maman's eyes, though, which heartened her. "Playing with a nailgun? At this time at night?" So that had been the excuse Iemitsu had come up with. How very unimaginative, considering how very close to the truth it was. That was good, it meant less guilt on Tsuna's part.

"I'm sorry, Maman," she turned on the waterworks. "Like, daddy always says that he's strong and that it's 'cause he does hobbying. So I wanted to become strong too! Like daddy!" After her words, Nana was suddenly crying too, but her tears were of her being touched that her daughter had such a good relationship with the man she adored. Nana hugged the other to her bosom, oblivious to Tsuna's wince though the latter recovered quickly.

"Don't ever do this again without supervision," Nana did say before Tsuna could get her wholly on her side. Tsuna nodded obediently. Privately, though, something like this was sure to happen again, Tsuna knew it. So, in other words, she'd better start looking for a tutor in some kind of martial arts, and soon. She didn't doubt that the greater Yakuza organisation the Peach group was a part of would be after revenge, and Tsuna would be there for Hana, every step of the way.

Maman consented to letting her stay home from school for a day considering what Tsuna had been through. Meanwhile, Tsuna was aching for news on Hayato.

When she went to school the next day, everything seemed strangely normal. Like she hadn't been shot. Like Hana hadn't been rescued. It was a feeling that estranged her from most of everyone from the school, but she couldn't help but feel. . . unsatisfied, somehow. Even the usual badmouthing of their home teacher didn't really manage evoke a reaction. Yes, it felt like reality was nothing more than a slightly hazy daydream, but reality was really just reality.

Then it was lunch, and Tsuna escaped from the stuffy room, pushing her way through the crowded playground to get to her friend at the cherry blossom trees. "Whoops, sorry," she muttered as her elbow collided with a tall kid, who retorted back with a curse which, if this was 5 years ago, would have landed him in limbo in the case of school, as it had with her. Finally, she could see him sitting beneath the cherry tree, talking avidly with. . . Tomoe-san? That couldn't be right.

She raised the volume of her voice, running towards her tanned friend. "Heeeey, Yamamoto!" Her shoulder hurt, but she bared with it. Besides, she'd once had her brain starting to fry. That, in her opinion, had been far worse than being shot. Yamamoto looked up from where he was chuckling with Tomoe-san about something. When their eyes met, clueless honey and sharp brown gold, his face distorted into something much less friendly, and containing of much more grief.

She came to a stop before Tomoe-san, cocking her head to the side, wondering. "Say, Yamamoto, why would Tomoe-san be here?" Especially considering what a stalker the kid had turned out to be, even if on Hitomi's behest. Yamamoto took his fine time answering, avoiding any further eye-contact with her as if she'd be able to glimpse the truth inside of his gaze like some telepathic person or something.

"Go away, Yamamoto-kun and me are talking, " Tomoe-san said rudely, and gave Tsuna a push. She clenched her teeth together to bit back a gasp of pain as her shoulder was jolted. Now, normally, this is when Yamamoto would insist that Tomoe-san leave, a rather false smile curling his countenance even as his voice deepened in anger. He was pretty good at catching Tsuna's signs of distress. But he did not do so.

Instead, Yamamoto stared between them two with something close to helplessness, until, finally, he closed his eyes and spoke to her with a grimace colouring his face. "I'm sorry Tsuna-san, but you did just disrupt our conversation. Can you leave?" Tsuna could only gape wordlessly at him and the betrayal he'd just committed. As Tomoe-san smugly decided that Tsuna was out for the count and turned back to Yamamoto, Yamamoto sent her another, pain filled glance (and he should feel pain!) before he drew an arm around Tomoe-san's shoulder and they left her on her lonesome.

Meanwhile, Yamamoto's grimace had stretched into a parody of a grin so that Tomoe-san wouldn't notice that everything was wrong. His brain, as it had been all day, was going over the events that had happened once he'd returned home to a completely anxious Tsuyoshi. Once he'd noticed the state he was in (and the wound where a bullet had grazed him) Tsuyoshi had began the interrogation in earnest while cleaning out Yamamoto's wounds.

"_What happened?" Tsuyoshi asked, disinfectant in one hand and a clothe in the other. Yamamoto was seated in the kitchen, his shirt removed for better access. He grinned, as he always would when he wanted people to trust in him.  
"Nothing happened," he swore, but from Tsuyoshi's unamused countenance, Yamamoto doubted he'd been taken for his word._

_He glanced down, at the evidence of his lies, lying there displayed on his collarbone. "I tripped," he stated, "Helping someone else cross the road."  
"Who did you help?" Tsuyoshi asked, his tone grave. His father had always been able read in between the lines. Yamamoto leaned back, feeling the cool metal of the chair caress his heated skin. He'd gotten a ride from one of Hana's family members; the curly haired uncle one._

_"We helped Hana," Yamamoto said, remembering the dull pain from where he'd been shot at, remembering Byakuran's dangerous smile, remembering the latter's hand on his wrist, stopping him from chickening out. He wouldn't have. Wouldn't he? Tsuyoshi's firmly pressed the cloth against the slash, and Yamamoto hissed. Tsuyoshi asked.  
"Who else was there?" in a voice close to snapping. Yamamoto laughed to himself, pained. Tsuyoshi had caught the plural that he hadn't been able to withhold.  
_

_"Tsuna, and Gokudera-san, and Byakuran-san and Hibari-san." Yamamoto obligingly shifted when Tsuyoshi gestured for him to do so. This time, he was a lot gentler with the cloth.  
"Who was the one who decided that all of you would go help Hana?" he asked after a moment's silence, in which a myriad of emotions passed behind copper lenses. Yamamoto knew that father was asking who exactly had put them all in danger. It was the things that his father didn't say that were most important._

_Yamamoto stayed stubbornly silent, until Tsuyoshi was done patching him up. "Do you need time of from school?" his father asked, quietly understanding. Yamamoto couldn't hold it back anymore.  
Blurting, "It was Tsuna, but she didn't force me to go!" That's when equally sharp eyes examined one another, Yamamoto's filled with a determination that nobody, especially not Tsuna, was to blame. Tsuyoshi's filled with the experienced knowledge of someone who's held responsibility over others.  
_  
_Finally, Tsuyoshi dismissed him with an air of finality. "I don't want for you to remain influenced by that girl any longer." __He turned his back on Yamamoto, signalling that the conversation had reached an end. Pained, Yamamoto bowed his head in defeat. He understood where Tsuyoshi was coming from. For his deceased mother's sake, who had wished them to never come to blows, metaphorically or otherwise, he would cut all association with Tsuna. In the meantime, maybe those erratic  
flashbacks of the incident would also stop visiting him. _

In the end, he hadn't even realized that Tomoe-kun and Tsuna weren't friendly with another until he saw her again. That had mainly been a coincidence.

Once school was over, Tsuna was ready to return home and to bury herself underneath layers of covers and never leave. And so it went on for days, and then weeks. Yamamoto was gaining more and more friends, while she was left behind. It seemed that Tsuna's presence had acted as a deterrent to them. In the meantime, Tsuna had requested her father to pay for some lessons in martial arts.

"Oh, what kind?" Iemitsu asked, looking up from where he'd been buffing his gun. Apparently he'd decided that now she'd had a real taste of organised crime, he didn't have to bother hiding it anymore. Mother still had no clue, of course. But that was pare de course. It felt nice, that he wasn't bothering to anymore, but made her wonder just how oblivious maman was, especially considering that the woman happened to share a room with Iemitsu, and Iemitsu did these sort of activities at home. He did take the gun from his suitcase first, though, so maybe this was a rarity for him.

Tsuna angled her head so she could stare at a discoloured patch in the corner of the room, pressing her thumb to her lips as she thought. "I've heard about Muay Thai and Taekwondo, and a few others, but I don't know what the differences are." She examined the brownish stain closely. Wait -was that blood? She averted her gaze back to her lap.

"Like, Muay Thai seems interesting, but is mainly a grappling sort of sport. And Taekwondo is like karate but doesn't seem very fast or efficient, considering all that leg movement and what not." She absently rubbed her shoulder as she waited for his answer. The wound had healed up nicely, but a scar still stretched across of it, which she was beginning to feel a bit insecure about.

Iemitsu took his time ruminating, before he addressed her again. "Tsuna-chan, what kind of moves do you expect to use? Papa won't be able to narrow it down if Tsuna-chan won't tell him!" She supposed that did make sense. She wanted something fast, that was true, but she didn't want to have to continue hitting someone until they went down because her blows lacked any sort of stength. So something that aimed for the vital spots, then? Something more suited for combat, then. She told him all this and watched as his eyes glazed over, as he perused his mental library for what she sought.

Tsuna could have asked him for tutoring in swordsmanship, considering she did have some second hand experience in fencing, except that that wouldn't keep her alive, as her true instinct was to fight in close contact and with her fists when against deadly force. Besides, fencing had lost it's appeal from the very first moment she even held an epee, since she had been forced into the sport.

Iemitsu made a comprehending sound at the back of his throat, pointing his gun at the ground. "Krav maga is one of the most efficient martial arts in the world," he told her, suddenly grinning with eagerness at his own genius, drumming his nails against the hilt of the gun. "It very comfortably passes each one of your conditions. Also, and more importantly, I already know someone who can act as your tutor."

Oh. So it was easier on him, hm? That's why he was accepting this that easily, huh? Well now, that wasn't fair on Tsuna at all. It sounded like he didn't even want to deal with the extra trouble like arranging for her the best tutors money can buy. And that was the sole reason he'd chosen Krav maga. That kind of annoyed Tsuna, mainly because she'd began to think, once again, that maybe Iemitsu was dependable. Still, though, Tsuna couldn't exactly pick and choose, not when she so desperately needed to improve her combat ability and as quickly as possible.

"Fine," Tsuna declared, rocking on the balls of her feet. "When can you arrange for that tutor to teach me, then?" If the mystery tutor did not arrive here within a week, Tsuna was going to go to Hana's place and beg the girl's 'uncles' for some training. She didn't want to; that was a last case scenario, but if she had to, even grizzled old (or young and grumpy) yakuza would have to do. She felt like she would be more comfortable with an associate from her father, though. He'd never willingly put her with someone who's teaching manner was way too harsh.

Iemitsu smiled broadly, and his white teeth glittered in the artificial light. "He's already in Japan." So he was probably part of the group that acted as Tsuna's on and of watchers. Great. She released a breath, and straightened her shoulders. "Fine. When will I have my first lesson?" _And also, will the person be as nondescript and boring as the rest of them?_ She kept that question to herself.

"Tomorrow, in the afternoon." Tomorrow was saturday, so she'd probably be able to have the whole day to get to know her new tutor. Alright, that was fine. She forced a smile onto her lips.  
"Great, looking forwards to it."

She left the room with anticipation tightening the line of her shoulders.

A/n To make up for the late update last time, here's this update! Speaking of which, I'm pretty sure if the police ever have a reason to search my computer, I'm screwed. With such gems such as 'how to treat a bullet wound,' or 'Yakuza customs,' or ' violent martial artists fight...' or 'do sonic bombs exist.' yeah. It looks pretttyyyyy bad.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter fourteen.

_Man, I really was too optimistic. _She couldn't help but think as she was introduced to a toddler sized person and his teen companion. The toddler had sideburns and he wore a fedora. It was incredibly weird. She eyed him sceptically when he introduced himself as Reborn, which was not so much a name as it was a title. Also, she was the reborn one here, five times over. She had more right over that moniker than he had.

"And I art Basil," the other introduced himself, bowing gallantly and looking at her from underneath long luxurious lashes. Despite herself, she found a smile tugging the corners of her mouth at his old fashioned form of address. And what kind of name was Basil?  
"Tsuna," she introduced herself, and feeling charitable, accepted his handshake in place of another bow.

The toddler, it's voice strangely clear for a child his age, suggested they retire into the garden while he speak with Iemitsu. There was some unsaid authority to him, such that Tsuna instinctively found herself complying to his wish. Or maybe that was Basil's hand on her wrist, tugging her along with him, though very gently. He had a very smooth palm, though Tsuna could feel the existence of calluses as firm skin on his knuckles. His grip was warm, too.

Nana had set up folded tables and a parasol. Tsuna sat herself down, letting go of Basil's hand and gestured for him to do the same. Then, she folded her hands underneath her chin, propping herself up by her elbows, and gave him a long look. Basil was a dirty blonde, with dark blue eyes. He fidgeted uneasily underneath her gaze, and the lines of his face were actually quite chiseled. Italian, Tsuna speculated.

"So, why are you here?" She asked, bluntly. He didn't look taken aback, which had her raising her impression of him. "Since I was only supposed to have one tutor, as far as I know?" She trailed off, cocking her head to the side as he seemed on the point of saying something. Seeing she had his attention, he swallowed before talking.  
"I am also being taught in the art of Krav Maga, so master says it is much like hitting two birds with one stone." So he was being taught by the toddler as well? That was kind of stupid. She pulled a face.

"Ah, I do feel honoured to be here!" he stressed, as if that had ever been in question.  
"Not the point," she suggested with an eye roll at his insecurity. She rolled her stiff shoulders, rubbing the spot in between her collarbone and shoulderblade.  
He gazed back at her owlishly, cluelessly and she resisted the urge to cross the distance between them and pinch his cheeks. They seemed perfectly round and malleable. In fact, this thing that she was feeling, it reminded her of something. Wait, -wasn't this how she'd felt towards Kyoko not that long ago?

Did she -had she -was she? No, it could not be. She could not just have gotten a crush on him, this person she'd just met. No way, no why, no ever. She didn't even know anything about him, outside of his attractive face and old fashioned way of speaking. Sure, even the way he stood was attractive, but that meant nothing! He was staring at her like she was going insane, and even that expression was just so adorably befuddled she wanted to nuzzle her nose against his, and. . . Her forehead hit the shiny plastic of the table with a dull thud. No, just no.

Yeah, that was probably just the stirrings of fondness. She liked him because he was cute, like she'd been fond of Kyoko because she was cute. That settled, Tsuna peeled her forehead from the table and regarded the person who probably now thought that she was completely crazy. But no, he was studying the clouds above them with a glazed over look in his eyes. She angled her head so she was gazing along with him.

"You know, that looks like a pillow," Tsuna murmured quietly, yawning a bit. It was obvious where her mind had gone.  
"Dost thou believe so?" Basil asked noncommittally, before the conversation completely lagged as both of them sunk into their thoughts. Tsuna was only broken out of them by the arrival of her toddler tutor, who left her house without Iemitsu by his side.

Basil immediately straightened up, suddenly all business. And so it seemed the toddler was comfortable with as he immediately began ordering Basil into doing some warmups. Then he turned towards her with his beady black eyes. "What can you do?" he questioned her, probably wondering whether she'd had any prior training.  
She had to disappoint him. "Not much. Some stretches, some situps, little else."

"Then to get you up to speed. . . " he mused to himself. She sighed, smothering another yawn, one of boredom this time. Beady eyes caught her dismissal. His tone turned commanding. "Run ten laps around the block." Seriously? That sounded so dull. Also, quite a bit too difficult for a beginner like Tsuna to do. She was going to complain, but noticing Basil's gaze and the wary glint in his, decided better off it.

He'd said run, so she couldn't loophole her way out of it by walking. She scuffed at the dry earth beneath her toe, before she asked for some more elaboration. "Is jogging alright?" because she would faint by the time she'd run the fifth lap, otherwise. She couldn't believe she was actually taking what this toddler said in consideration, but then again, she hadn't been the most normal of toddlers either, so it wasn't on her part to refuse.  
Reborn gifted her with a measuring look. "For now, yes," he indulged, perhaps because it was her first day.

Seriously, she didn't even know what Krav Maga _was _exactly, but instead he started with conditioning her rather than an explanation? That made little sense! She wouldn't know what exactly she was actually supposed to train, physique-wise. Tsuna was starting to feel like this tutor she'd been given had been a bit of a cop out. It wasn't a nice feeling. Well, whatever, maybe she could at least get her stamina up from his teachings, even if she wasn't going to learn a specific skillset.

She sighed, stretching once languidly, before she went of on a slow pace. She was halfway down the first street when she came across Sasagawa-sempai. She remembered, and rather belatedly, that he'd also been part of the rescue team. He was pretty good with his fists, but he'd been helping Shoichi with the technological side of things so that word wouldn't come back to Kyoko that he'd been fighting.

"Hey," she greeted him, while he stopped also, jogging in place. "I'm going out for an extreme run! Do you want to come along?" She'd gotten a bit friendlier with him ever since that day when they'd all rescued Hana, though his 'extreme' attitude still liked to overwhelm her. "I'm busy," she told him with a negative shake of her head, the longer strands of her hair falling over her shoulder. She frowned at them. She should get a haircut or something.

He looked so disappointed that she amended her statement slightly. "Maybe later? Right after dinner, perhaps?" As she doubted she would have the rest of her afternoon free. And besides, it was often nice to take a midnight stroll. He punched the air in his natural exuberance.  
"That would be great!" he enthused, chestnut brown eyes smiling at her. Tsuna smiled back, a faint twist of her lips.

She waved after as he went, taking the opportunity to catch her breath (she was rather badly out of shape. What a disgrace) before she continued that lap, and then the next, and then the next, until she'd managed to complete seven and by the end of said lap was sweating as much as a pig held over an open fire. Now she was beginning to truly struggle, moving her weak legs even though they felt like they were stuck in quicksand. Her agonized breathing came out as a wheeze.

Finally, she collapsed at Basil's feet (who'd been doing his pushups without any trouble) without having completed (or even began) her eight lab. She sent him a trembling, beguiling look, reaching out to him with arms that felt like they were made out of rubber. "T-tell my fanbase. . . " she began in no more than a hoarse whisper. "I l-love them." And then she keeled over in a dead faint.

Nevermind the fact that she had no fanbase (more's the pity.)

She woke up next to something nice and cooling stroking her cheek. She mumbled something, lashes fluttering as she tried to open her eyes to see. When she did, she found herself face to face with a goddess. "Are you okay?" A sweet voice asked, tone so innocent and delectable like spun sugar during the zenith of one's childhood. Tsuna immediately coloured, accidentally pushing Kyoko away so she could have more space to herself to breathe. "I found you lying here," Kyoko explained with a nice smile, her skin so smooth from so close up.

"Uh, I fainted," Tsuna admitted, all of her language skills apparently having deserting her because of the disgrace that Tsuna had having willing parted from Kyoko's touch. Kyoko immediately clasped her hands in front of her, looking worried. "I'm fine now though," Tsuna hurriedly reassured the other and bounced back to her feet in an attempt to further alleviate Kyoko's worry. Now that she stood up, she could notice that this wasn't her garden, or rather, this wasn't even the block she'd been made to turn laps around.

"That's good," Kyoko agreed, apparently having taken her upon her word. Then she looked doubtfully around her. "But I don't think you should go home on your own, when you aren't feeling that well." Kyoko bid Tsuna to remain where she was as she returned to her house a block over, and once there, came back with Sasagawa-sempai in tow.

Tsuna unwillingly let Sasagawa-sempai escort her back home.

When she returned, it was to a house filled. Mother was there, father was there, but a suited woman wearing shades and her new tutor and his other pupil had entered as well. When Nana opened the door to Tsuna, her honey eyes had lit up when she'd caught a first glimpse of Sasagawa-sempai and then said person was invited in. "If that's extremely alright with you, then excuse my intruding!" Without even asking for Tsuna's permission, he'd already walked in.

She followed after, telling him that he didn't have to bother removing his shoes. Considering her father was Italian, he didn't really bother with certain customs like that, those he deemed nonsensical or too much trouble to uphold. Meanwhile, as she walked over the carpet towards the lounge, Tsuna wondered how exactly she'd gotten to be there, abandoned out on the pavement near the Sasagawa's house. Even the location was suspicious, considering Tsuna had been conversing with Sasagawa-sempai for that split second on her first lap.

She sat down on the white leather sofa, the one closest to the door and the only one that was free. Sasagawa-sempai joined her while Nana went to refill the teapot. Reborn sat across from her on one of the armchairs, and he was smirking knowingly between them and Sasagawa-sempai. Tsuna was starting to feel that the toddler either had the wrong idea entirely, or was simply trying to make his idea reality by hooking up Tsuna and Sasagawa-sempai through excess interaction.

Tsuna glanced sideways to see what Sasagawa-sempai was thinking of the strange way he'd been received, but he didn't seem bothered. Thank goodness. She would simply crawl in a hole and die if her crush's older brother disapproved of her just because of her strange associates. Introductions took place, in which Sasagawa-sempai was a good sport at the fact that a toddler was Tsuna's tutor.

In fact, Sasagawa-sempai ended up leaning forward in Reborn's direction, a look of intrigue firmly printed upon his face and making itself know by an excited glint in his grey eyes. "Are you related to Reboyama?" he asked of her tutor, curling his hands into fists upon his lap. Tsuna sent him a sceptical look, and finally asked.  
"Who are you talking about?" only to be peppered with facts upon facts about some apparently world famous boxer, some very short guy named Reboyama.

She wrinkled her nose. As interesting as that all was, just hearing the dry facts wouldn't exactly impress her. "Why don't you show me a video of him?" she suggested, hiding a yawn behind her wide hime sleeve. Sasagawa-sempai slapped himself on the forehead.  
"Why didn't I think of that? . . . To the extreme."

Tsuna slipped away from the lounge towards the office, where her father kept his laptop on the charger and unplugged it. He'd always been fine with her borrowing it, and it had stayed there even when he left (ostensibly for 'work related' reasons) so the laptop probably didn't contain anything too discriminating.  
She waddled through the hallway, holding the laptop to her chest at a weird angle as she unconsciously avoided putting too much stress upon her already healed shoulder.

She slumped back into her seat, reclining into the leather lining, and pushed the laptop into Sasagawa-sempai's arms. He immediately pulled up Yehtuh, a rather popular website were users could put up videos, and searched for 'Reboyama' and the season's match against some guy named 'Lussuria.' it was more of a mixed martial artist than boxing match, Tsuna saw. But seeing as the clip was quite astonishing, that didn't much matter. This 'Reboyama's' moves were quite polished for a small guy. A frown knit her brows together as she leaned her shoulder onto Sasagawa-sempai's to see the screen better. That did look like Reborn.

In fact, it was actually quite suspicious how much that looked like Reborn, ignoring the notable lack of his fedora hat. That facial expression of bored apathy was the same, as was his size or lack thereof, as well as his skinny build. Seriously, she could see where Sasagawa-sempai was going with this. When they both looked up in Reborn's direction, it was to see a far too amused smile curl the toddler's lips. Yes, suspicious indeed.

"So you're saying that you're going to learn Krav Maga?" Sasagawa-sempai's contemplative voice cut through her thoughts like a knife through hot butter. She nodded briskly to herself, as Nana returned with a hot steaming cup of tea for the both of them.

"Hey, we should look that up!" he suggested, and then she wanted to bury herself in a hole as realization struck. She could have just gone searching for information on the martial arts herself; but she had not. Instead, she'd been perfectly willing to rely on a tutor to do all the work for her. How shameful. It was, once again, her estrangement with technology coming to fore.

"Yeah, let's," she agreed, watching over his shoulder as Sasagawa-sempai pulled up a search engine and typed in Krav Maga. Wipo was the first result they were met with. "It has it's roots in Israeli military," Sasagawa-sempai read, his voice a previous unheard of monotone as he recited straight from the site. "And Krav Maga is know for its punishing counter attacks and emphavise on real life situations."

She read the section under his. "Krav Maga's philosophy upholds the values of aggression, instant deadly force and is both offensive and defensive." Wow. That sounded impressive. And rather heavy. So father was of the opinion also that Tsuna would end up in scuffles in which the death of her opponents might be needed? Or maybe it was just a mafia thing.

Sasagawa-sempai carried on from there, his alto lifting in approval. "For Krav Maga, its important to keep an awareness of your surroundings, of any more attackers, or any objects that could be used offensively or to shield you, or of any escape routes you could take if you're in over your head." So, situational awareness was key. Tsuna liked the that; she liked it a _lot.  
_  
"Look at the time! I have to go, Kyoko'll be worried," Sasagawa-sempai realized belatedly. He stretched over the table to put down his empty cup, stretched his stiff arms above them, and then he forced himself to his feet. "Your Krav Maga looks cool! But not as cool as boxing. Maybe you should think about switching over?" He asked over his shoulder as he grabbed his jacket from the stand Nana had placed it at.

He left after Tsuna assured him that no, she was not going to do that, and that he should greet Kyoko for her.

A/n Not really a training session, but sometimes the characters get away from me, you know? *Update, darn, chapter fourteen didn't show up on the thing so i accidentally clicked four instead. It's alright to shoot me, peeps. I suck. :(


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer; Don't own, darlings.

Chapter fifteen.

Tsuna pummeled the sack with her fists and kicks, swapping limbs every now and then. She was in Hayato's garden, who'd been kind enough to put his place up for her training. Hayato had recovered admirably from his wound without even a scar to show for it - which was direct contrast with Tsuna, who felt a lingering stiffness in her right arm. She finished a bout and drew her fists back to her, turning around to lock eyes with her tutor.

The toddler must be the incarnation of the devil, as whenever she disagreed with his training methods, he would have some sadistic punishment lying in wait. He seemed to take great glee in her pain and displeasure, while at the same time, he ascertained that it was good she was as forthcoming and stubborn as she was. Such a mass of contradictions, that kid. She supposed he just wasn't used to being contradicted. He was at that age when a child has only just gained self-awareness, after all. Those children tended to be devils in disguise.

All the same, Tsuna thought as she turned back towards her sparring partner, Sasagawa-sempai, who'd set aside the punching bag. All the same, Reborn was the optimum manifestation of the uncanny valley, what with his whole I'm-an-adult-nope-nevermind-i'm-not and how Nana tended to try and insist that Reborn not take the guest room but instead sleep in Tsuna's room, for bonding. So far, Reborn had been able to beg it off, which was good as Tsuna would have called up one of her friends otherwise, to make arrangements to go and sleep at their place for as long as said tutorship lasted.

Tsuna attempted to sweep Sasagawa-sempai's feet from beneath him, but the older teen easily manage to avoid it with a vigorous sidestep, before he brought up his fist towards her head. Going along with the momentum of her previous attempt, Tsuna ducked out of the way in time and aimed for his stomach with her knee. It connected soundly and Sasagawa-sempai doubled over with a grunt. In response, Tsuna shuffled backwards and waited until he had recovered.

He did so swiftly and began with a counterattack, an uppercut aimed towards her torso. She doubled around in an attempt to evade it, but instead came in line with his elbow which he promptly jabbed her right in the ribs with. A gasp escaped her, before she took the opportunity to kick him away to keep the distance between them. This bout continued, as it was a sparring match so neither of them could win, until Reborn finally called for them to stop.

Then she was set back to practising her moves against the inert punching bag. Her knuckles were already a shade of salmon pink from all that effort. She'd been told that kicks were like, the most important when it came to counterattacking, as they would allow her to take control of a situation if, for example, she was holding her own against someone wielding a gun or some other threatening object. It only made sense when he showed her the clip of how to disarm some gun wielding creep when in a bus, where it shows that the kick can very quickly broaden the distance between attacker and attackee and stop them from getting their gun back.

So, to be totally honest, Tsuna understood. She still far preferred the other techniques she could use, though. She narrowed her eyes as the punching bag was suddenly pushed towards her at an accelerated rate from before, that little brat from hell behind it gesturing for her to adapt to the new situation. He tended to do that, that Reborn, saying it was good teaching. Tsuna was privately of the opinion that he was planning for her to do something humiliating to protect herself, one of these days.

So she slid sideways to avoid a collision with the bag and threw out her leg at the same time, stopping its acceleration and stopping it from getting rebounded back at her for when she was going to use it to perfect her punches again. She shuffled back into place and began her usual routine, using her left hand instead of her right. To practise Krav Maga, it was best if she had a real life person to practise her locks and techniques on, and for that Basil usually sufficed, though he would be brought to wear lots of protection because the key behind Krav Maga was often lethal force.

Sasagawa-sempai was practising his own techniques from the corner of her eyes. He had been roped up into helping her training as someone she could spar with as he was far less fragile than Basil. He also took far more joy in preventing her from accomplishing a move, while Basil was there so she could polish it into perfection such that it became her instinct to fight with them. Tsuna was already dripping with sweat, her hair matted with it, and her breathe came out in short, strangled puffs. She still had a long way to go, in any case.

Reborn finally called for this session to end, which was great, as her knees felt rather weak. Her muscles didn't hurt, though, but she knew from experience that that just meant that the next morning she would be in _agony. _"Here, Tsuna," the abomination said as he threw her a bottle of water. Tsuna immediately caught it, unscrewed the lid, and began gulping down the liquid inside as if it were sweet, sweet nectar and she were some bee who'd just managed, on the skin of their teeth, to escape the carnivorous plant they'd selected with their life.

"You're getter better," the abomination stated, those large insect-like eyes staring into her soul and judging her, judging her _hard. _Tsuna shrugged, placing the cooled surface of her bottle against her shoulder. She was wearing a spaghetti strap top so she felt immediate relief, and her eyelids fluttered. She drank the rest of it down once that part of her body felt a bit better.

"Then I'll be off!" Sasagawa-sempai announced, who didn't often stay for pleasantries once a session was done. He was active all day, every day, and was probably planning to catch up some training aimed singularly at himself and his boxing.  
"Give your sister my love," Tsuna advised, and her expression seemed carved out of ice.

He gave them a belated wave with his fist and then he turned his back on them and was jogging away. He hadn't even given her his verbal agreement on the matter. Now that he was gone, Tsuna entered the building that was Hayato's house, finding him in the parlor holding an animated conversation with Shamal. When he noticed her, he immediately jumped down from the counter and raced across the room to get to where he'd kept a clean towel waiting her.

He returned with it proudly held in his arms, and then he offered it to her like the Azts used to over a heart to their gods. His face was equally as grave, so Shamal decided to rustle the hair that was much like his to wipe all traces of it behind. Hayato spluttered and the towel slipped from his hands. Tsuna caught the towel and used it to dry her hair and face of much of her sweat, before draping it over her shoulder.

Tsuna had promised to visit Yuni when she was done, so she left with Hayato tagging along with her.

They were received in the lounge, where Yuni was already waiting for them, hands clasped together behind her back. She laughed. "Krav Maga? Isn't that the one with all those crotch shots?" It was bad business indeed when Tsuna couldn't exactly refute her. The sun shone through the blinds and shone around Yuni as if she was the one bringing it all to being. Tsuna closed her eyes to bask in the experience, before she creaked an eye open to glare at Yuni balefully.

"It isn't _only _crotch shots. Hayato and I can put up a show, if you want?" And then Tsuna could prove the other wrong, and she could also practise a few of her more interesting techniques that wasn't just punches or kicks all day, like he holds and the like. Of course, to do that, both she and Hayato first had to wear protective gear as these techniques were mainly one shots that could hurt them rather badly if done wrongly.

So without any further prelude, Tsuna told this to Yuni, who rubbed a hand over her chin as she thought of a way to prevent them from having to truck all the way back to their home just to get the necessary items. Finally, it seemed a solution struck her as she turned excited eyes at Tsuna. "If it's arm protection you need, I have that from my own Martial Arts classes!" She beamed, eyes creasing around the corners in her exuberance. Tsuna had to smile back at her, at the sunshine in living form.

"Hang on a sec," Hayato interrupted them from where he'd been languidly paging through an advanced math book which had been left behind. "To put up a performance, will that mean showcasing your knife disarming? Because if we do, we'll also need a rubber knife, or something else much like it that could be used in it's place." His reasoning was sound, Tsuna realized. Yuni looked down at her lap, crestfallen.  
"You can't just make do with a stick?" she inquired pensively.

"That would be too hard a material," Tsuna explained. She glanced towards Hayato. "Hayato could return to get it and I could keep you company." But then again, that was kinda taking advantage of Hayato's good will. Hayato grumbled something beneath his breath, but Tsuna knew it wasn't aimed towards her, probably just towards their unfavourable circumstances. Or maybe it was the hopeful look Yuni was leveraging him with.  
"If Tsuna-sama wants me to get it, I'll get it."

Hayato left without any further hesitation at Tsuna's firm nod.

Meanwhile, while he was gone, Byakuran returned from his visit at Shoichi's. He noticed the enthusiastic way Yuni was rocking on the balls of her feet, as well as the couple of bruises littering Tsuna's frame from her earlier bout with Sasagawa-sempai. Where others would worry, he reacted in curiosity, coming to sit against the cabinet. His sly violet eyes caught the light of the late afternoon sun and reflected it back at her.  
"So, what has you so happy, Yuni-chan?" he questioned of his little sister, who'd be more likely to answer him.

"Tsuna-nee is going to show me what she learned," Yuni said, expression softening now that he was in the room. She walked over to make a space for herself at his side, laying her head against the crook of his elbow. "She's going to show me how to disarm a mugger; isn't it fun?" Byakuran shrugged carelessly. Tsuna thought that whatever kind of illegal business he was in had already made him used to such sights.

When Hayato returned, all four of them entered Yuni's dojo, where she was usual made to practise her own style of martial arts. Tsuna and Hayato lined themselves opposite one another. Hayato had already put on his protective gear while he'd gone. That must have garnered him more than a few strange looks when he was making his way back through the streets.

Tsuna exhaled, waiting patiently for Hayato to adjust the rubber knife in his hands into the ice pick formation, by which the tip had to be slightly angled towards the floor beneath them. Once he was done, he lunged at her without any forewarning, fine with attacking her for training's sake.

Tsuna didn't even think; her arm swung towards his, the one holding the knife, and her forearm connected with the junction between his elbow and wrist, and at the same time her other (right) hand shot forwards and to his adam's apple. He couldn't stab her with the knife while she exerted pressure with her forearm against his and used his previous momentum against him.

As such, his knife wielding hand made an arch around her, the shock from the punch to the neck almost forcing him to let go, and she snaked her fingers down to encircle his wrist, the attacking hand having bounced from his neck to joining that one as well.

And as easily as that, she had him on the floor before her, arm forced behind him, the rubber knife clattering to the floor.

Sounds filtered back in, like that of Yuni clapping with delighted approval, that of Byakuran's chuckling even as his eyes narrowed to slits so he could capture the scene and force it to stay in his memory bank forever, and that of Hayato's quick, almost hyperventilating breathing despite the protective gear he wore around his neck. Tsuna let go of Hayato as if she'd been burnt, erratically clenching her hands and back again. She could have ended it with a crotch shot rather than that lock at the end, but she apparently wasn't that far gone yet that she'd put Hayato through such an traumatising experience.

Hayato stayed on the floor as he recovered, but once he had, he shot her two thumbs up (though not without a pained wince.) Tsuna really wondered why he would voluntarily act as her training partner, seriously, she did. But then, if not him, it would be Sasagawa-sempai, who wouldn't be at all chuffed with that as he would want to defend himself with his fists rather than react as an actual mugger probably would, which would be with the knife they had on them. She bent down to give her friend a hands up. She should probably not take his presence for granted, as she had Yamamoto's.

"That was quite quick," Byakuran complimented when Tsuna averted her attention from Hayato and towards the two sitting on the benches. "And you looked like you were having a lot of fun, Tsuna-chan." This was apparently supposed to be a good thing? Tsuna was reminded of Hibari. She supposed that she was feeling the exhilaration of getting her technique just right, more than that she actually took any joy in taking down her friend. She shook her head, scoffing at Byakuran's silly belief.

"It's the adrenaline," she told him instead, folding her arms, her chin held at a stubborn tilt. The squeak of the door opening from in the direction behind her interrupted him mid-response, and Tsuna twisted around. It was Aria, Yuni's mother. She took in the sight of the rubber knife lying on an abandoned section of the tatami mats as well as the sight of Hayato rubbing his wrists. His gaze flicked towards Tsuna, before her smile regained its warmth. Now Tsuna was curious.

What for a conclusion had Aria come to on what had just been happening in the dojo?

"Yuni darling, Gamma wants to see you," Aria told her child, who immediately hopped to her feet, sent them her farewells, and left the room. Tsuna walked across the room to lift the knife, brushing it down as if it had been dirtied when on the ground of the spotless dojo floor. "You haven't been trying to teach Yuni Krav Maga, have you?" her blue eyes weren't fixed upon Tsuna, but on Byakuran, gently accusative in that way Yuni sometimes tended to have too. Tsuna decided to come to the rescue, raising her volume.

"I was only putting up a show." And it seemed that Aria was satisfied with that, sashaying out of the room with that strange unaffected way she had. Hayato and Tsuna exchanged worried looks. It seemed that there was trouble in paradise, or rather, Byakuran didn't seem to be fully trusted by his adopted mother. For what reason? Was there even a reason outside of Aria's large sense of protectiveness towards Yuni?

Byakuran, smiling blandly, bid them politely to leave as he 'wanted to be on his own for a while.'

A/n Here's a chapter. Tell me what you think about it, if you would please. And sorry for the time it took for me to update. My book on Krav Maga only just arrived. :)


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Don't own; also, better brace yourself for mindscrew below. I don't even.

Chapter sixteen.

Tsuna was attending PE, and once again, they were playing baseball. Of course, it was Yamamoto who'd been picked out to choose the teams. But he didn't pick her, and she was left on the sidelines. Well, of course, as it was PE, eventually she would also have to play. Maybe she didn't want to, though. Maybe she was feeling more than a bit discouraged by the fact that Yamamoto didn't even give her a second glance. He was her first friend (this time around) and the most precious.

Sure, she had Hayato, who she supposed was a really good friend as well, but he didn't treat her like one. Yamamoto would point out her flaws in an encouraging way. Hayato didn't even seem to notice them. To Hayato, she was this person he had a vision of that he idolised, which was not she herself in truth. There was also the fact that he'd been really made into her loyal follower by his own guilt at the whole my-brain-is-on-fire incident, so she didn't even feel like she was the reason behind his devotion. It kinda felt like she was a fraud, and that wasn't a nice feeling.

Halfway through PE the game was changed, and instead they were grouped into volley ball teams. Tsuna had been placed into a team with Kyoko and Hana. "Hey, pass me the ball?" Kyoko asked her, and she did so with lacklustre. See? She couldn't even concentrate on Kyoko, which was a miracle if there ever was one. Still, their opponents could easily read where the ball was going because Kyoko tended to project it, and by the time they had their turn, Tsuna was a bit too late in catching the ball, and that was two consecutive points lost.

"What's wrong?" Hana asked her once PE had finished and they were in the dressing room. Tsuna shrugged, keeping her gaze low. "  
"Nothing," she said, as to keep the other from worrying, but from the way Hana's frown deepened, she didn't succeed. Tsuna finished tying her laces before she hiked her bag over her shoulder and glanced at Hana. "I'm going first," and she left the changing room without further prelude.

She had an appointment with Reborn to attend and brushed past Yamamoto to leave the courts. Or at least, that was what she attempted to do. She was blocked from leaving as Yamamoto stepped to the side and in front of her. His gaze was unusually sharp, but she supposed he had a reason. Tsuna folded her arms together, drumming her fingers against her elbow.

"Go on," she advised, her eyes flickering around the environment restlessly. "I don't have all day." She wondered where his best bud Tomoe-san had gone, and then gritted her teeth, fingers clenching sporadically around the skin of her arms.  
"Tsuna," he began helplessly, and she could see the internal conflict he was undergoing just by the tense way he held himself. He was usually relaxed when around her.

"I'm . . . having problems," he admitted when she finally met his gaze with her own accusative set. He laughed, but it was an anxiety ridden laugh. "I thought you could help me," he excused himself, despite the fact that he was trying to net a favour from her, even though it had been him who had turned his back on her. And it hurt, she realized, far more than even being shot. At the reminder, she wrapped a loose hand around her shoulderblades where the scar tissue was still on prominent display.

"With what?" she snapped, because she couldn't exactly turn him away, not if he would willing evoke such inner turmoil just to interact with her again. He swallowed compulsively, and she could see him examining the scar from a distance away. He bit the bullet.  
"I can't play basketball," he shook his head, and she could see that his cheeks were flushed the red of shame. Probably that he had to admit to it, about something that he was supposed to be practically invincible at.

"Yes you can, I saw you do it just an hour ago," Tsuna told him, taking great vindictive pleasure in rubbing the words in his face, even though she knew he didn't mean that literally. "Besides, shouldn't you bring such problems of yours to a coach? Or to your manager, at the very least?" She could see him visibly struggle with his words at that, because she did have a point.

"I can't do that," he told her. "The coach would take it far more serious than it is. So would the manager. And. . . they're counting on me." So he was unwilling to seek help elsewhere? Then why was he asking her for some miraculous solution, when they weren't even associating any longer? Because he wouldn't have to put his pride on the line? Or because he knew that there was no way of letting them down, which in her case he already had?

She rubbed at the areas just above her ears, a stress headache starting to burrow it's way beneath her skin. "Alright then," she exhaled in defeat, "Elaborate on what the problem is." Yamamoto shifted his weight from the one foot to the other, reluctant despite him being the one to call her out. She gestured impatiently at her watch, to show him that she didn't have all day.

"Lately, no matter how much I practise, my average is dropping and my fielding is screwing up." He looked of in the distance, a look of stark discontent on his face. "At this rate, it will be the first time I don't start since I began playing baseball." That sounded like he was in a slump to her. She couldn't exactly give him any baseball tips, especially considering she was only halfway good at it, since was often less than average at anything she didn't set her mind to.

At seeing her bewilderment, a smile suddenly stretched it's way across his face - but it was a parody of his usual carefree and tranquil grin. "Ah, you're just so reliable, I found myself seeking you out again - " he cut himself of, that _utter abomination of a smile _still shimmying it's way on his visage. All this time, and he had acted as if his avoidance of her was the natural state of affairs. This was the first time since, that he'd verbalized his treachery, at least when around her.

Tsuna wanted him to feel pain, but at the same time, she wanted to prevent it from occurring. She chewed the inside of her cheek, before she came to a decision and took a step back, distancing herself from him. As far as she knew, more practise wouldn't prevent whatever he had problems with from occurring again, since it sounded like he'd already tried to fight fire with fire in that regard. It would probably be for the best if he took a break, but asking him to such a thing. . . and he said they were counting on him. . .

She shook her head, lowering her hands. "You should take a temporary break, Yamamoto-san." She knew he wouldn't take her advice, but at least now she wouldn't feel any regret about whatever came of it, as she could tell herself she had done what she could.  
"Oh, you think so?" Yamamoto asked her, his pitch rising with his disappointment at the fact that she hadn't given him some miracle solution. She wasn't_ that_ dependable, after all, even if she supposed Hayato and apparently now Yamamoto liked to think so.

She returned home to her tutor with a heavy heart, only to find out he was postponing their training for the day because of some 'urgent business,' he had to attend to.

So she was lazying around in her room in only her pajamas. Hayato was getting trained by Shamal, and Hana didn't have any free time either, so it was just her on her lonesome. That was fine. She bunched her covers around her clasped hands; she felt uneasy. She could always go help her mother with the housework, which Iemitsu couldn't even partake in considering he'd left the week before. Maman's birthday was coming up, and yet he apparently did not have any time to spend with her.

So Tsuna found herself trudging down the stairs, her scar on bare display (since she wore only a spaghetti-strapped shift as her pajamas) to find her mother sitting in the corner of the lounge, paging through a magazine on exciting new cooking recipes. She plopped down next to the woman, glancing over her shoulder to see which page Nana was on. "That looks yummy," Tsuna commented absently about the dessert combining ginger spices with a honey glaze.

Maman clicked her tongue, "Ara, you think so? But the calories - " her words turned into unintelligible mumblings, as she counted with her fingers. Tsuna still felt an ill feeling nestle itself in the pit of her stomach. Maman was diverted from her task while noticing a spiky strand of Tsuna's hair from the corner of her eye.

"That is getting quite long," she commented as she reached out to touch it, measuring it's length. "Are you trying to grow your hair out?" Tsuna leaned into the sofa's leather exterior, folding one leg over the other. She wasn't, actually. She was just not really taking care of herself, and as a result, her hair grew.

Maman took the lack of an response for an invitation for her to reminisce. "When I was your age, my hair was so long it reached the small of my back," she lowered the hand holding her magazine for emphasis, the other letting go of the Tsuna's hair. "It was what attracted your papa to me the first time we met," she lowered her volume conspiratorially. Tsuna pulled a face.

"Too much information," she warned, reaching over to flip the page to the crossword puzzles, which she knew her mother liked. "I would like to grow out my hair, but my texture is so crazy, taking care of a longer hairstyle would be way too much of a hassle." Besides, long hair could act as handle on her for the opponent to grab if she were in a fight.

Everyone knew that long hair in martial artists was a sign that they were strong enough that the handle wouldn't even matter. She wasn't at that stage just yet (and didn't feel she ever would be, to be honest.)

Maman was about to reply in negative when the doorbell rang and she had to get up to attend to their guest, whoever that person was. "Ara," Tsuna heard her mother comment to herself as she left the room, "But I don't remember there being any guests at this time." Tsuna sent a languid look towards the clock on the mantelpiece of the lounge. It was eight o'clock and certainly not the time that Maman or even Iemitsu would receive any guests.

Tsuna could hear the squeak of the rusty gears inside the door as Maman opened it, and then she could hear her mother welcome whoever was at the other side of it. The chills she had been suppressing all evening almost overwhelmed her and forced her to scrambled out of her seat and make her way across the floorboards just for her mother's voice to be abruptly cut off. She dove into the hallway, catching a glimpse of a white suited man carrying her mother's body (corpse?) before an immense pressure slammed her into the rug. She tried, feebly, to push herself up. That's when she was knocked out.

That night, two inconspicuous people in white suits carried their individual packages to a silver BMW, which sped of as soon as they entered.

It was break, and Kyoko was in class, when the door was thrown open.

"HEY EVERYONE!" A boy in a striped shirt greeted, looking more than haggard and definitely out of breath. "YAMAMOTO IS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF OF THE ROOF!" There was a rather tame reaction to his alarming words, for some reason. Kyoko supposed that was well enough. Such a goodnatured guy, would he really commit suicide like that and in such a public place?

"Him? That's impossible," one of her classmates muttered, after another narrowed it down to the Yamamoto from their class.  
"There's good and bad jokes you know!" an ill tempered fan put in her two cents. The striped shirt proceeded to explain;  
"When he stayed after school practising yesterday," the boy caught his breath, "He went too far, and broke his arm!"

Now people were starting to doubt their previous easy going thoughts. When one person suggested they go to the roof, everyone agreed and the class emptied itself within moments. Kyoko frowned to herself, looking around the room for Sawada-chan, who she knew was good friends with him. She couldn't see her; maybe she'd been having her lunch outside, as she'd been doing ever since she and Yamamoto got in a fight?

Kyoko knew they were fighting because Yamamoto had suddenly been going around with Horito Tomoe-san, though he'd also recently distanced himself from the latter. Frowning even deeper to herself, she left the room, preparing to go to Gokudera-san's class which was the room over. It would be best for a friend of hers to go and tell her the news, and however much Kyoko wanted it, she couldn't count herself as one of them.

It wasn't that she hadn't tried to befriend the one who'd been getting so along with her older brother, but more that Sawada-chan was incredibly stand-offish and generated an aura which told one to stay away, or else. Kyoko privately thought that Sawada-chan must be really lonely, especially with all those boys as her friends, with who she probably couldn't have much girl talk. As she made her way towards the classroom and over the stone floor of the hallway, she wondered whether Haru would care if she invited the other along on their annual cake run.

She pulled the door open and poked her head in, ignoring the immediate attention her face generated, and made eye-contact with Gokudera-san from where he was threatening a poor sod with a few sticks of those fireworks of his. She knew he would only threaten others if it was on Sawada-chan's behest, so that was alright. Still, maybe it was better if he did so with his words and physical amplitude only. Fireworks indoors was dangerous, you know.

Gokudera-san grouchily slid those fireworks somewhere beneath his clothes - she honestly had no idea where, and he muttered to himself as he made his way across. She closed the door behind him so that none of the gawkers inside could distract them. Gokudera-san had his hands inside his pockets, and seemed very discomforted at being at such close quarters with her. She knew he considered everyone older than him to be a rival for Sawada-chan's attention through the use of the school's grapevine, and smiled to set him more at ease.

She could see him relax the way he held himself, though it was mainly a subconscious thing. Kyoko had long ago found out that people were easier to convince of her good will when she smiled, and ever since, had become an expert at using hers. "I have news for Sawada-chan," she told him without any further prelude, and saw his quick-silver eyes sharpen at attention. She ducked in her chin so that she wasn't watching him squarely in the face and his stance relaxed even further.

"Tell her that Yamamoto-kun is threatening suicide at the school's roof," she told the other, and watched as he re-grew to be as stiff as a rod. Still, that could have ended up in an explosive outburst if she hadn't defused him beforehand. She put a dimmer to her smile, as she convinced him to; "Hurry, be as quick as you can. The safety of Tsuna-chan's happiness will be counting on you." And that was all she needed to say, as he squeezed himself beside her and shot through the corridors at the speed of light in the direction of Sawada-chan's current whereabouts, or so Kyoko hoped.

Now that that was done with, she should probably hurry to the faculties office.

Hayato gritted his teeth as he made for the rooftops, recognising that he was the only one who could probably prevent an atrocity from happening. He'd been waiting for Tsunayoshi-sama at the school gate, as he'd done since a month ago when he'd first come to the school, but Tsunayoshi-sama had not met him there. He'd quickly come to the conclusion that she must be sick or otherwise indisposed.

Still, what a day to pick, just when that baseball idiot was about to put aside all the work Tsunayoshi-sama had put into him to kill himself. Seriously, Yamamoto could not be more ungrateful - that life of his was only there for Tsunayoshi-sama to do with as she pleases, didn't he even understand such a basic truth? But then again, he had so rudely turned his back on Tsunayoshi-sama some six months ago, so Hayato supposed that his life had been forfeit for quite some time already. Still, Tsunayoshi-sama wouldn't be happy if the baseball idiot squandered it without her even having gotten her revenge; Hayato was sure of it.

So, the conclusion he had pulled was that he'd better convince the baseball idiot otherwise, or he wouldn't be able to call himself Tsunayoshi's most loyal. That would be far too bitter a pill for him to swallow. Really, he was completely grateful that Tsunayoshi-sama's friend had made him aware of the current state of affairs. Maybe he should start listening in on the school's grapevine, just so that such an inordinate situation wouldn't threaten to happen again?

He clenched his fingers around the railing as he hurried along the stairs. When he finally reached the roof, he could see that many spectators had already taken their places some seven metres away from the fence. And there was Yamamoto, at the other side of it, his arm held in a sling. He was smiling (he was always smiling) but his gaze was aimed downwards and a shadow veiled from his hairline over his eyes. He'd heard Tsunayoshi-sama refer to them as golden brown once, and fuck had he been jealous.

He marched right over there, pushing his way through, clenching his fists so tightly that the veins from his arms bluntly stood out from his pale European skin. He'd heard Tsunayoshi-sama refer to them as 'pasty,' and that whilst the baseball idiot's had been surveyed as 'healthily tanned,' and how he wished to dig his nails into that skin of that idiot until it bled and even beyond that; the pallor of rigor mortis. Stupid baseball idiot, making Hayato go through all this trouble.

He could see the surprise radiating from the baseball as he took a double take at seeing him. "If you've come to stop me," he swiftly declared, before Hayato could bring a word in, "Don't bother." He glanced at Hayato from over his shoulder, standing at a rather taller height. That didn't stop Hayato from crossing those last few metres of distance between them, to lean over and fist his knuckles over his collar. There was a moment of intense eye-contact (Yamamoto had probably not expected him to bodily drag the other away, or as was the case, prevent him from jumping by keeping him in place.)

"Why are you doing this?" Hayato interrogated in a hiss, no longer aware of the gazes from those behind them, who still hadn't dared to come closer.  
"This?" The baseball idiot questioned, cocking his head to the side, as mock innocent as could be. Hayato gave him a rough shake by his shoulders and Yamamoto let him, probably hoping that the shake would knock him of his feet and cause him to fall.

"What do you think Tsunayoshi-sama would feel?" he questioned, menacingly baring his teeth in a rather ominous scowl. Yamamoto's lips parted in a parody of a smile.  
"That's what you always say. Tsuna-sama this, Tsuna-sama that. Don't you even have any feelings of your own?" The baseball idiot lifted his hands to his collar, pinching at Hayato's fingers there in an attempt to get them to loosen.

"You wouldn't know how frustrating it is to put your whole effort into something, only for there to be no pay-off, to fail, to let down everyone and everything that matters to you." His smile was more like that of a cornered stray found in some alleyway than his previous easygoing self. Despite himself, Hayato felt repulsed by this. This was wrong; this wasn't the Yamamoto that Tsunayoshi-sama had befriended.

"So much time spent refining my technique, so much hours spent on the field conditioning myself, so much time lost that I can't ever regain - and for what? I could have spent those years with my mother, but I didn't, and now she's gone." His voice had taken on a haunted tone and Hayato boxed in his reflexive reaction to move away or to allow his grip to slip.

"Your mother was a baseball player," he realized, rather belatedly. And she'd died, that was something he'd only been able to figure from the time both he and Tsunayoshi-sama spent at his place, in the presence of Yamamoto's father, but not the woman to whom he had been born. Yamamoto laughed, and it was a wet, repulsive sound.  
"Mama got me interested in baseball," he admitted freely, scratching at Hayato's steel grip. "It was something she loved." Hayato could read between the lines. So it wasn't something he had loved?

"If I can't make her proud, after spending time I could have spent with her learning the game, then what is there left for me?" Yamamoto asked, and it was obviously a rhetorical question to him. And, at the same time, it made Hayato wonder. If he didn't have Tsunayoshi-sama any longer, to no longer be able to obey her orders, what was there left for him? It was a question which generated chills down his back.

Still, he could finally understand Yamamoto in a way he'd been incapable of before; or rather, had deliberately made himself unable to. What he was feeling was probably what Hayato had felt when he'd found out that the piano player had actually been his mother, and that she'd been in an accident that had taken her life. And then to realize that he'd turned aside the piano, despite it having been her passion? It had been a devastating realization that had forced him into running away from home to find a new place for himself, or die trying. He'd found Tsunayoshi-sama, and the rest was history.

Still, there was one thing that annoyed him from what Yamamoto was saying, and he let it slip; "If it was something she loved, then it must have been something she wanted you to love, too. So then why are you talking about 'failing?' To play baseball professionally or not, to succeed or not, it sounds like your mother would have wanted you to enjoy the ride - whether it had it's upside downs or not." He remembered his own mother's tinkling laughter when, at the beginning of the sessions, he would sloppily press a few keys into a rhythm that was far from perfect.

This put Yamamoto off balance, and he stopped trying to get from Hayato's grip, his eyes widened as it struck him. "To succeed - or not," he breathed like a great epiphany had been reached. Like a trance, he turned his head around to stare at Hayato as if he couldn't see him. "That - I've been using her as an excuse." And then he wasn't smiling anymore.

"It wasn't for my mother," Yamamoto said, and something about the way he was staring at Hayato that froze him to the core. "It was for me - I wanted to succeed, and because of that I've become everyone's hope. I'm throwing a temper tantrum because I can't enjoy baseball anymore. Because I'm faced with so many expectations from outside sources - from my classmates, from dad - I can't enjoy baseball anymore except if I win, and even then. . . . And I wanted them to feel as bad as I do about that fact, and the only thing that I thought of, was to jump."

There was a creak as the baseball idiot (not much of an idiot now, was he?) shuffled his way around the fence and back to the other side. Hayato's grip slackened (had already been slackening) and then he stared at how Yamamoto made his way through the disappointed crowd (whispering about it being a joke) and down the stairwell.

That had surely been the very least that he'd been expecting.

A/N I don't even know, what the fuck? Yamamoto, what have you done?! You've stolen my keyboard from me to slap at it like a child would sloppily try to drum, and now this monstrosity exists. Please, don't flame me. I seriously have no clue, just that Yamamoto apparently doesn't play by the rules, and also, what the fuck? Please don't flame me.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter seventeen.

She could hear voices from where she was floating, cotton in her mouth and a crick in her neck. She couldn't move, but it felt like she'd been placed upon a planet without an atmosphere, as if there was no gravity dragging her down to earth. Then, the voices receded and she was left with blessed silence, though still with the feelng like someone was there with her, viewing her from behind a detached mind. She tried to peel open her eyes, because her own state was starting to worry her.

There was the quiet patter of feet against floorboards from somewhere near her, and she twisted onto her side, head tilted beseechingly in it's direction. "Hey, are you awake?" A fragile voice said in but a whisper, and she felt an helping arm wrap itself around her head so she could use it's owner to prop herself up. The dizziness rushed through her and had her putting all of her weight on the other. From their silence, she supposed that was fine, and she wasn't burdening the other needlessly. In fact, from how she felt, Tsuna supposed she wouldn't even care.

She finally managed to get her eyes open enough to catch a glimpse of a long curtain of hair and from behind it, a pale girl wearing a worn shift. The girl managed a bright - though somewhat conservative - smile at seeing that Tsuna was awake. She was on the bed with her knees neatly folded beneath her, and Tsuna had to crane her neck to meet shy purple eyes. She blinked, caught in the other's gaze for more than a moment, before shaking her head as if breaking out from a trance. Her stomach jolted unpleasantly at the movement.

She had never realized that someone other than Byakuran could have such otherworldly eyes.

"Ne, I'm Nagi," the other introduced herself, "And could you tell me your name?" The inquisitive look in her amethyst eyes was genuine, so Tsuna automatically responded with her name, before she realized that Nagi could perhaps also answer her questions.  
"Sawada Tsunayoshi. What am I doing here?"

At this, Nagi seemed to retreat back into her shell, expression growing somber. "I don't know; I'm just here for my parents' money." She seemed downhearted, eyes narrowed in sadness. "I've been here for a few days already, but more importantly, do you need anything to drink?" Tsuna frowned, now that she mentioned it, she was feeling a bit parched. She didn't think she could stay sitting upright though, if her support would shift itself. She inwardly mused about just how much she needed water.

"Yes, that would be nice," she managed to croak out, and the girl, Nagi, gently placed her head onto a pillow propped up against the bed's headboard. Now, what did she remember from last night? - ! - A white suited man - and the forceful impact of a fist smashing into her cranium. She rubbed her temples, wincing in remembrance. She was lucky to be alive. She very carefully stopped herself from thinking about her Maman, and the high possibility that she'd been harmed. It was difficult, but her mind was so used to compartmentalizing already, that she managed.

Nagi poured Tsuna a cup from the tap in the bathroom linked to the room, the pitter patter of her feet against the floorboards signifying her return. She made herself a place opposite Tsuna, hugging her legs to herself as she huddled on top of the covers.  
"Why are you here?" Tsuna asked, because she knew that she'd been kidnapped - which was kind of ironic seeing as she'd saved Hana once from this very same fate. She very much doubted that Nagi was here on her free will, and certainly not from the unkempt state of the girl.

There were dark bangs shadowing her startlingly clear lilac eyes, and finger shaped bruises dotting her wrist, which she pulled away and out of sight once Nagi caught Tsuna's gaze. Tsuna hated to think on it, but she had to wonder, for her own safety if nothing else (though she wanted to help this girl, too);  
"Did they. . .have they. . ." she gestured soundlessly, hating her inability to communicate about things she preferred not to think about. The girl made a sound like a startled rabbit, before wildly shaking her head in a soundless 'no.'

"They did this to me during my capture," Nagi assured, eyes flickering down towards the hand she'd squeezed into a fist. Tsuna didn't think that the other was lying, and breathed easier for it. Indignation had lit up Nagi's eyes. The intensity in the new way she held herself suited her far more, if only because she seemed a bit less faded, a bit less of a lilac and more of a violet.

An half hour later, Tsuna had finally recovered enough that she was able to move, and the first thing she did was check the lock after which she paced across the room. Nagi told her everything she knew about where and by who they were being held. Apparently the group of six or so people were only thugs out for money, and who took assignments from people they contacted over the phone. Apparently Tsuna had been one such assignment, but Nagi had been unable to tell her why.

Tsuna groaned and buried her head inside her arms. "I may know why now," she stated, her voice muffled by the skin of her arms. Of course, this had been revenge from the members of the Peach yakuza, for when she'd busted out Hana all that time ago. She could count herself as being far more efficient and her frame had grown a bit more lean since then, but it seemed that she was still unable to keep an upper hand concerning her enemies despite her new-found physical prowess. Being caught by surprise _sucked, _there were no ifs or buts about it.

Nagi was interrupted from answering by the click of the lock. The two of them exchanged tense looks.

Hayato paced across the courtyard restlessly, hands pulling at his hair. He'd be smoking by now, but after Tsuna had admitted that she by far preferred her air supply to remain pure, he'd given up on that particular addiction. It was, however, difficult. It was day two and still no sign of Tsuna. Finally, with his shoe scuffing at the earth beneath him, he decided he would pay her a visit. And so he left the courtyard in the direction of Tsuna's house, not even realizing that a concerned Hana and an uncertain Yamamoto were making the exact same decision as he was, at this point in time.

He met up with them at the area just outside of Tsuna's house, which, with the lights out, seemed to be deserted. The corners of his mouth were pressed into a scowl. "What are you doing here?" he asked Yamamoto, his stance solidified with hostility, fingers preparing to whip out his dynamite at any time.  
"We're worried," Hana admitted, scanning the front of the house with a worried glint in her grey eyes. "Even Nana doesn't seem to be home, and she usually only leaves for more than a few hours if Iemitsu is there who can look after their daughter. Except that Iemitsu's been gone for a while."

So now that that was ruled out, there was but one probable scenario left. Hayato didn't want to think about it - Tsunayoshi-sama was strong, so he would have thought there would be at some evidence of the crime. But the garden seemed serene, and the curtains to the house was open, and nothing inside of it seemed to have been stirred in any negative manner. So, that meant that Tsunayoshi-sama must have been taken by surprise.

Hayato rubbed his chin with the side of his thumb as he pondered. He stepped up to the threshold, and inspected it from all angles. There didn't seem to be any damage to the lock, or anything else of the door, so it must have been opened. It was Nana who greeted whoever was at the other end first, so that meant that whoever had opened it must have reacted swiftly, so that Tsunayoshi-sama would have no idea that her mother had been dealt with. If so, Hayato thought that it was likely that the kidnappers (as he assumed they were for now) must have been people who would not bring Nana unease at first glance.

What was the kind of people Nana was used to accepting into her home? Iemitsu's friends, usually. Suited men and women. Sometimes Tsunayoshi-sama's friends. So, he could count Yamamoto etc. as also being suspect, except Yamamoto himself had a broken arm and Hayato doubted he'd be able to take down Tsunayoshi-sama, even if the latter was taken by surprise. Besides, Tsunayoshi-sama had training on what to do if taken by surprise, so she should have been able to react within a split second.

His frown deepened, and he began to pace over the finely mowed grass. So, he could assume that before she'd been knocked unconscious or dealt with in some other manner, they'd have to first neutralize the possibility that she would counterattack. This meant that Tsunayoshi-sama's mother could have been used as a hostage of some kind, though he thought that unlikely, even though such an situation would probably be very effective. Whoever had done the kidnapping (presumably) probably didn't have even a hint of what kind of person Tsunayoshi-sama was.

His trail of thought was ruined before he could get really into it by Yamamoto squatting down beside him. "How can I help?" He questioned, apparently giving leadership over to him. Hayato told him (rather begrudgingly) the check the area for watchers without being seen - suited, preferably. It was true that he was the most inconspicuous of the three, so he'd be able to do it better than either Hana or Hayato would. Hayato doubted that the house specifically was being watched, since that would just draw attention, but probably just the neighborhood for preparation in case Iemitsu returned home.

So Yamamoto jogged away without even a protest. Hayato supposed the baseball fan was still very much unbalanced from the previous day. Either that, or he'd finally gotten back into his right mind and recognised that he should worship Tsunayoshi-sama in every way he could for being such a magnificent person, returning the favour for all that she had done by being his friend. Hayato sagely nodded his head. Yes, that had to be it. And now he wouldn't be interrupted as he pictured what exactly had happened.

Hana slapped a hand against her forehead, muttering about pigheaded idiots. He may have said that aloud on mistake. Whoops.

The door knob twisted open from the outside, and one of the one's who had kidnapped her poked his head from the other side to rest his eyes on Tsuna. He turned an expectant look towards Nagi. "Has she recovered?" Nagi nodded warily, obviously not trusting this person, whoever he was. Well, she did say they were thugs. Still, now that she was face to face with the one who'd knocked her mother unconscious, she couldn't keep it in any longer;  
"What have you done with my mom?"

The brown haired man shrugged, like that wasn't of any consequence. "Why should I tell you that?" He seemed to enjoy the sight of her stricken face, the corners of his mouth turned upwards just the slightest. Fortunately, he decided to not to leave her in terrified suspense. "She's unharmed, outside of that bump to her head. And she was stay this was as long as you cooperate, understood?" It was truly an offer she couldn't refuse. He nails bit into the callused palms of her hands and she bowed her head in silent defeat.

Still, Tsuna was just going to have to be patient until she found out where her mother was being held. Then, she would strike (and hopefully, escape this place.)

"In any case," Hana abruptly inquired, getting to the root of things. "Is this a kidnapping or not?" She could see that she'd snapped Tsuna's bitch right out of his thoughts again, which he'd just professed to have rid them of Yamamoto for. She sniffed at his indignant look, before said look switched over to thoughtfulness. That was just like him, immediately expecting the worst. Actually, even Hana personally doubted that this was anything but an abduction, but it was the thought that counted. If they just went on assuming things, and were proving wrong. . .her uncles would never let her live it down.

Speaking of which, she should probably contact them. Being from _the_ family gave her several of advantages, one of which was access to an information base on what the ruffians of the town had been up to. Unfortunately, she didn't have her phone on her, as Kyoko had this weird habit of texting her at every hour of the day about some weird anecdote that had just taken place, and she didn't always have the patience for that. Her uncles had cautioned her to always have a phone at hand, especially after the kidnapping, but she'd kind of sorta simply ignored their wise advice.

"We don't have time for that," Gokudera snapped when she'd told him her idea. "If there was an abduction, then the victim often ends up subsequently killed within a very short period of time. We can't wait. We have to act now." Yes, and how did he suppose they do that? By just magically knowing where exactly Tsuna and her mother had been kept? Hana resisted the urge to throttle him for his overblown idiocy. It was more than difficult; how did Tsuna do it?

"Well, you can stay here," she weighed her words, keeping her temper in check. "And I will be going to ask Tsuna's neighbors if I can borrow their phone for a moment." And so, she turned on her heel and stormed down the lawn towards the next house over. She ignored his gaze digging into her back, but only just. When she knocked on the door, and explained what she needed, she was ushered in through the hallway where their home phone happened to be. The female neighbour stayed behind her to assure she wasn't calling to some foreign country, or anything, before she was satisfied Hana wasn't and gave her her privacy.

Apparently, "There have been rumours about an inner conflict inside the Vongola, and who might be the next heir now that the previous two are dead." Which wasn't really about the town's riffraff, but was still valuable information, considering Tsuna happened to be the daughter of one of the people who could approve the appointing of the new heir. So, had she been abducted just so her abductors could blackmail Iemitsu into accepting their choice for the next Vongola Decimo?

If so, that would make a lot of sense, considering Tsuna was supposed to be under heavy watch since both Reborn and Iemitsu had needed to return to Italy after the chaos of the former heirs' brutal death. So those watchers had been traitors, then. And that would also reinconsile with that the incident when Hana had been kidnapped by a rival gang of the family - when Tsuna's watchers had also allowed her safety to slip through the cracks. It all made sense now.

She placed the phone back on the receiver and left the house, walking away from the premise and towards where Gokudera seemed to be mumbling to himself.

Tsuna frowned to herself as something struck her. "But why have just I been kidnapped? Why not killed?" If these people were connected to the Peach group, she would have thought that they wouldn't take any risks and murder her just so there wouldn't be a possibility of her location ending up being snitched and the CEDEF and Vongola going after them, guns ablaze.

The man shrugged. "That's not for you to know." He turned to Nagi meaningfully. "Your parents haven't yet acquiesced to paying the ransom. Boss is getting impatient." Nagi blanched a pale white from what was being implied. Tsuna winced, ouch. That her parents were alright playing Russian Roulette with their child's live, that was definitely not something to just brush off. Tsuna supposed that if Nagi did eventually find a way out (with Tsuna's help, of course) she'd be plenty of traumatised outside of even what was usual for the experience.

The brown haired man took one last look of Tsuna, before he turned his back to them. Tsuna almost jolted towards him, taking advantage of when his guard was down - but then Nagi's desperate shake of the head snapped her out of it. Her mother was still being kept somewhere, and her escape could put the woman's live at risk. And so she had to undergo the agony of him leaving the room and locking it behind him with the realization that she could have saved herself (and Nagi) and may not get such an easy opportunity in the future. Dammit.

"I'm sorry," Nagi said, taking her frustrated look as her fault. Tsuna chewed the inside of her cheek, turning away from the other to sit back onto the bed.  
"You helped me regain my composure. I should be the one thanking you," she replied and waited for that to sink in, staring at the other from across the room with expectant eyes.  
"I know, still, I'm sorry," Nagi stubbornly replied, as if to say that Tsuna should mind her own business and allow her her own opinion.

A/n I dunno. Tell me what you think about my Chrome, please?


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter eighteen.

"Hey, Nagi, where you left conscious when you were kidnapped?" Tsuna questioned, folding her legs beneath her to sit opposite the other on the bed. The room only held one bed, which they had been forced to share, considering that they didn't have access to a sleeping bag or futon for one of them to use. At Nagi's confused look, she amended her statement to include - "Even if I can't escape as long as they hold Maman hostage, it's still a good idea to locate where exactly we're being held, for future purposes."

Now that she thought of it, it was possible that the authorities already knew of this place through phone tapping, but hadn't been presented with a good opportunity to storm it yet, as there was Nagi's continued well being to consider. Tsuna rubbed her chin, frowning deeply to herself. It was unfortunate, but she doubted anyone knew about her and her mother's presence here.

Nagi nodded, taking in a deep breath before launching in on an account of what had happened on her journey there. "I live somewhere near Namimori high," she confidently began, before she closed her eyes as if to picture it. "I was making my way around Kokuyo hospital when a silver BMW stopped at the side of the road. The person inside - it was the same man we saw yesterday, though he generated a far more authoritative air when in the car, though had an acne problem." She exhaled, opening her eyes again, a pinch in between her brows.

"I was left conscious; in fact, I didn't realize it was a kidnapping at first," her pitch lowered, as did her gaze while she studiously clenched her fingers around the rough material of the covers. "The man told me that I was to be arrested for pickpocketing. When I tried to assure him of my innocence, well. . . he persuaded me to step into the car and that he would bring me to the police office, it wouldn't take a minute, everything would be sorted out." She recited this all rather duly, and her grip tightened in remembered humiliation.

Tsuna felt like this would be a suitable moment to place her hand onto the other's in what she hoped was a comforting pat. Nagi managed to generate a reassuring smile to flash in Tsuna's direction, as if she could sense Tsuna's sadness at what she had just proclaimed. Tsuna chewed the inside of her mouth. Nagi was actually pretty amazing for sensing it, but all the same, Tsuna would have wanted to leave Nagi with something less to worry about. Ah well. . . better luck next time (as the way things were going, there _would_ be a next time).

"The car first drove of towards the intersection a bit further away from the Nagisawa district near the hospital, then turned left. There were three more turns, but by that time I'd become aware that the man wasn't a police officer and tried to signal the people outside for help," Nagi recited, her voice an even monotone.

"We stopped of at a gas station, and I was thinking maybe I could get help from an attendant or from the people at the pump, but he twisted around in his chair and he held a gun underneath a cloth he'd placed on his lap. He told me to get up, and then he led me off towards the nature reservation adjoint to the gas station. It was obvious that the gun was meant to threaten me into silence on my way there."

She seemed to have gone into a cold sweat, and what she said next was nothing more than a whisper. "He placed the gun in the lining of his suit, and then he removed a blindfold from his pocket. When he tried to wind it around my head, I resisted." She stopped, unconsciously flexing her hands into fists and back. "And that's how I got those bruises around my wrists, as he held onto them to stop me from resisting."

She concluded, "There were about seven more turns from there, and at certain points the car drove very fast and at some points the car drove very slow; If I had a piece of paper, I could probably draw it from memory." Her lips thinned into a line. "But I don't have any paper or anything to draw with; besides, you'd have to know the territory around Namimori very well, or else it would be useless." It was left unsaid that she did not have a very good memory of Namimori's layout, almost as if she'd lived a rather sheltered life.

Tsuna smiled, starting to feel a sliver of hope at Nagi's good visualisation skills. Tsuna did just happen to have a very good impression of Namimori and it's surrounding neighborhoods, considering her friends' houses happened to be rather spread out from each other. Now, if only they had some material to draw with; they'd probably be able to make do with the floor or the cupboards or anything, really, to act as their canvas.

"Maybe if we come up with a good rapport with one of the abductors?" Nagi suggested somewhat hesitantly once Tsuna told the other of her plans. "Then we can ask for . . . charcoal or something?" The way she fidgeted in place was oh-so-adorable, and that was when Tsuna knew Basil and Kyoko.  
"That's a good suggestion," she praised, while in the back of her mind she wondered if she could also establish herself as harmless to the eyes of their kidnappers so they would let slip her mother's location.

So they settled down to wait for when their lunch would arrive in the form of one of the suited men carrying with him a tray of plain rice and water, as it had yesterday.

* * *

Hayato was in the clearing a bit further away from the usual hangout, where the rest of Tsunayoshi-sama's friends had also gathered. His lips had pulled back in a disgruntled sneer. "What are we standing here talking about? We should be helping her, dammit! Tsunayoshi-sama needs me!" Byakuran, that idiot, wasn't smiling for once, and instead, was interrogating Hana on what her information base had found out.

Hana, meanwhile, seemed to be getting super frustrated with him. "I already told you that, you monkey! More importantly, what do you know about it?" Her glare was full of meaningful venom, and Hayato remembered belatedly that Byakuran happened to be brother to Yuni, heir to both the Giglio Nero and the Gesso. He pushed past the turf head to join them, slipping his hands into his pockets, where he'd hidden a few sticks of explosives.

"Has anyone even thought of contacting the police?" Kyoko suggested, the only one of them who seemed to have kept a cool head. Hayato snorted, disgusted. It was obvious Kyoko knew nothing about Tsunayoshi-sama, even if she did count herself to be among the latter's friends., or she would have never suggested that.

Hana looked back at her friend, where she was wringing her hands. "Alright, who of you monkeys brought Kyoko-chan here?" Her tone was at a cross between outraged and exasperated. Byakuran lazily raised his hand, a challenge in the way he held himself. Hayato found himself bristling, though he kept it in check.  
"That is not the point," he snapped at them to drag them back to the topic at hand.

"You know," Shoichi suggested from where he was relaxing against the tree, buffing his trombone (he'd been dragged along rather unexpectedly). "Maybe, for Christmas, we should all just buy eachother tracking chips?" Hayato sent him a foul look, to which the red haired kid shrugged as if he remained unaffected. Hayato sincerely doubted that. He'd practised his glares in the mirror (as well as his shinto exorcism routines) to utmost perfection.

The baseball nut was keeping himself apart from them, for some reason or the other. He was probably still ashamed for his treachery, and so should he be. Hayato crossed his arms onto his chest. Maybe it would have been great if he had bought Tsunayoshi-sama a tracking chip. Then, if he saw that she'd been turned aside from the treacherous idiot, he would have come into the picture so he could beat that idiot up, and he would have been lavished with praise.

"Oy, what are you doing?" Hana hissed, incensed that he wasn't contributing to the conversation.  
"None of your business," he grumbled back. "So, what have you found out?" he turned towards Byakuran, who'd been gathering together clues from the surrounding people (including Hana). Dammit, he would have wanted to act as a detective, if he'd realized that would help Tsunayoshi-sama.

"Nobody was outside at about 3:10 to 3:30 so I'd expect the abductors had only a very small window of time to get away from the scene of the crime. I'd have to say that means that they means they most likely had some vehicle to make a smooth getaway with." He frowned, "That still doesn't tell me what kind of car they took, though I'd expect it to be one in which the unconscious figure of a girl wouldn't raise any eyebrows. So maybe a sportscar?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hana responded in a deadpan. Tsunayoshi-sama's most sketchiest friend shrugged, flapping his hands in a what-can-you-say kind of casual way. The only one of Tsunayoshi-sama's friends who didn't look skeptical was turf head's sister.

"If it is a sportscar," Kyoko began, "Then we can probably question any of the pit stops around Namimori and the surrounding areas, as such a thing around here is very rare, and they'll remember." They exchanged looks, while the turf top fist pumped the sky, apparently taking her word for the gospel. She continued, her tone taking on strength at their (but mainly her brother's, Hayato figured) reactions. "Then we can map the way the abductors went!"

And so they spent the rest of the hour assigning parts of the town to eachother.

* * *

Tsuna took inventory of the room, memorizing the exits in case she decided on a future ambush. Then there was the clicking sound as one of the men unlocked their door, entering with a tray balanced on one arm. It was a different person from the usual; cleanshaven, and with a smaller build. He looked uncomfortable, his gait a bit less confident than the other man as he entered the room. Tsuna speculated, pressing her thumb to her lips. Target acquired.

"Hello," she greeted, looking as casual as she could whilst accepting her portion of the food. "You're looking a little haggard. Hard day at work today?" Like, for example, having to deal with being on the point of found out by the police? She sure hoped so. That would be great. The young man said nothing to them, leaving the room and locking it again behind him. Tsuna released a breath; well, she hadn't expected that befriending her captors would be easy to begin with.

"Maybe I should try next time," Nagi pointed out. "That kind of sounded like you were trying to sound offensive." Tsuna couldn't exactly reply to that, considering that on hindsight, Nagi was completely correct.  
"I can't do small talk," she defended herself with a wince, and planted herself back against the cushions, lying stomach upwards.

* * *

Hana's chose Tsuna's district to start her investigation. She knocked on a door of a nearby house. "Excuse me, but could you tell me about a few days ago, and whether a sport car has driven past here?" And was given a shake of the head. Hana unfolded a map she'd brought from her house and crossed out the street leading out of the suburb, measuring with a sharp eye whether there were junctions that could only be reached through the latter.

Once she convinced herself there wasn't, she hurried out of the street, turning left into a road that connected to the main street. She hadn't yet being able to find word of a sports car, but that was probably because she hadn't yet knocked onto the correct door. She folded her map back into back pocket, keeping her hand there so she could whip it back out at any second.

Finally, she reached the pump station, which was open 24/7. The attendant behind the till told her that a sportscar had driven past here; but that there had been two of them, to be more precise. "What kind of sport car?" she asked.  
"A silver BMW. . . and a red Lamborghini," he told her, frowning behind a thick pair of eyebrows.

Wait, wasn't a Lamborghini an Italian brand? Hana rubbed her chin as the attendant went to attend to another customer, contemplative. If she went with her own theory, then that would mean the kidnappers would likely be in a Lamborghini, right? She walked out of there, the bell signifying her exit ringing behind her. Still, she couldn't be all that sure. Maybe she should phone her friends on whether or not they had heard anything?

"It was a BMW," Yamamoto told her. "The car drove passed my father's Takesushi restaurant." Hana took a glance back at the map; Takesushi was placed near the mall, which was close to the Namimori school, and also quite close to Tsuna's place. The kid had been acting strangely cooperative, but she supposed he felt guilty and like he had a hand at the series of events that had led Tsuna to being kidnapped. If Tsuna was here, she would have probably by now talked the idea out of his head. . . . though she wasn't here, and that was the problem to begin with.

"Do you swear it?" Hana replied with utmost graveness. "On pain of death?" He answered in a startlingly somber affirmative, and Hana belatedly realized that not from that long ago he'd been planning on putting such a plan into definite motion. She chewed the inside of her lip, "Okay then. I'll trust you." She broke the connection and fetched a pencil she'd hid in her sleeve, drawing a line over the map; from her location to the mall.

Besides, the Lamborghini would have been too obvious, at any rate. She'd rather overestimate the enemy than the other way round. Overestimating an enemy rarely brought death, in any case. She placed the pencil back into the plush lining of her sleeve, pulling back her shoulders as she prepared herself for some more walking; planning on going to the district just to the left of the pump station, or a bit to the right, which would lead her into roads that led towards Takesushi.

* * *

It was an hour later, and the whole group had gathered in Gokudera's house, so no adults could interrupt them in the middle of their strategy meeting. "Report," Gokudera took the lead. Hana supposed that they could also have all gone to her house, but then again, several of the members meeting them here happened to hold some amount of hostility against the yakuza. Besides, Kyouya was back at her place and he disliked crowding.

"If we place our maps together, we'll probably have a rough sketch of where the abductors took Tsuna-chan to," Kyoko suggested, batting her eyelashes innocently when everyone's attention immediately became focused on her. She pulled out her map, laying it onto the cheap cloth that was acting as their table for the time being, since Gokudera had broken their last one in an outburst of anger. Hana could sympathise.

Yamamoto (who had confined himself to the distant corners of the room as if he didn't have the right to be there) made his way across the room to press his wrinkled copy on the spot next to Kyoko's. One by one, everyone else did as well, before they used Kyoko's one to draw the lines (or circles) that they had drawn on their own. And indeed, what appeared was an isolated area somewhere in the middle of Namimori. It all seemed to coincide with the area near the Namimori shrine.

"I could call the family to comb the area around there, but then the enemy would probably be warned of our efforts," Hana explained, placing a hand on her mobile phone. It was the same reason for why she'd not made members of her family help with the rest of the mission, as they'd draw far more attention than just a group of kids only just starting middle school.

So it was decided that they were on their own.

A/N Ah, my friend bought me Vongola rings! THE WHOLE SET! YEAHHHHHHH! *ignites my cloud ring* who do you even think I am!? Speaking of which, how was this chapter? Did everything come across well?


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter nineteen.

"Could we maybe have something to entertain ourselves with? Like, a pack of cards or something?" Nagi murmured, her tone uncertain as she glanced over at Tsuna doing pushups on the floor. "Tsuna-san is going stir crazy." The younger man, who'd entered the room with their breakfast for the day, frowned behind a black eye. She wondered how he had gotten that. She hoped it meant there was inner turmoil in the gang, because then he'd be likelier to help them.

The younger man took them in with a sweeping glance of his eyes, before he placed the tray onto the ground and left. Nagi suppressed a sigh as Tsuna flipped back upright, gritting her teeth in unconscious agitation. "We shouldn't have expected them to warm up to us from the very start," Nagi advised, leaning backwards against the panels of the bed. She could still see that Tsuna wasn't at all delighted with what had just occurred. That girl was rather impatient, she supposed.

Tsuna seemed to want something clarified, perching onto the edge of the desk, fingers clasped over her lap. "Why did you tell him I wanted the cards instead of yourself?" There was a puzzled twist to her jaw. "Since they like you better, wouldn't they have given you the card, if it was your wish?" It was the most Nagi had heard her say in one sitting, lavender eyes wide and doe-like. Tsuna raised her elbow to rub the back of her head, apparently noticing Nagi's quiet regard. Tsuna was very conscientious, Nagi had very quickly noticed.

"They're used to me being too frightened to ask for anything," Nagi eventually murmured, ripping her gaze from the other. "If I suddenly seem more confident, they'll wonder why." And asking for something for a friend was more in the league with what they thought of her, however much it pained her. She would have liked to be seen as strong, like Tsuna was strong. Tsuna hadn't even cried when she'd first been forced into the room, unlike Nagi. She liked to think that it had to do with her presence there as much as Tsuna's inner stability, though. But she wasn't a fool enough to think that was anything more than wishful thinking.

"That's careless of them," Tsuna was of opinion as she hopped back from the desk and returned to her exercises. Apparently it was very important to Tsuna to stay physically fit, in case of any future opportunity for a breakout. Nagi had shyly asked whether Tsuna could teach her some of the exercises, but Tsuna wasn't that good of a teacher, considering that she'd almost made Nagi burst into tears at her first mishap. The teachings had stopped immediately after, and Tsuna had been trying to make it up to her ever since.

"Maybe," Nagi stated noncommittally, groping for a change of subject. She settled on, "Did you get taught to fight? Or was it self learned?" She really wanted a cat to pet right at the moment, it's soft fur rubbing in between her fingers. She'd always wanted a cat, but her parents though that too much responsibility for her, that she wouldn't be able to cope. For that same reason she didn't have any chores to do either, as they had a very low opinion of her capacity of being being useful.

Tsuna made a face in wistful remembrance. "I have a tutor," she explained, switching back to doing pushups with one hand, "His name is Reborn, and he is a slave driver." Despite her harsh words, Nagi could see something very close to home sickness in the stiff curve of Tsuna's back. "Reborn would often make Basil and I spar together," Tsuna continued, doing her pushups with the easy of a great amount of practice. "Though it's only against Sasagawa-sempai that I can truly blow of steam."

Tsuna shifted so she was lying on her back, starting on some reversed crutches. "And you? Do you have a sport that you play?" -Was what Tsuna was doing actually _playing_? Nagi doubted it. The few techniques she had bee shown held a ruthless edge to it, that made it obvious that it was for real life application only.

"If you can call two weeks of gymnastics as playing a sport, then yes." Because she'd been pulled out right after her parents had found out that the sport held competitions, and that one was coming up. It was to prevent disappointment, mother had explained, as Nagi would have surely been a part of the bottom rung. Dedication was for her, after all, or she wouldn't have agreed to quitting the club that easily. Still, those two weeks had been spent the happiest she could remember herself being since.

"Oh?" Tsuna questioned, a glint of intrigue entering her eyes. She sat up, folding her legs underneath her, and gesturing for Nagi to sit as well so she could tell her the story. She had a way of doing that; unconsciously commanding the people around her with her words and gestures, and then not seeming to be aware of it. Nagi didn't hold anything against such an unconscious habit, so she obligingly sank down to sit on her knees.

"My mother thought to distract me from chasing after cats stuck in trees," she explained, remembering how she had fallen from one such tree, the cat jumping off shortly after. "So I was allowed to choose a sports club to attend, as long as it was cheap and located nearby so I could get to it without needing a lift." That had been fine with her, since she'd been too excited to be let out of the house and out of her parents' sight.

"It was the gymnastics club that I joined, and I made a friend there too; a girl called Miura Haru, who'd been attending the club for six square years already. She's amazing, but I only saw her at the club. Once I left, since we didn't swap our addresses or phone numbers, I could no longer contact her." Nagi let out a bereft sigh, only afterwards noting the lack of judgement in Tsuna's eyes, like she understood the necessity of having friends, and the hollow pain that came from having them unexpectedly ripped away.

Still, Tsuna didn't do anything but say, "That's rough," and didn't share her own experience, which would have partly negated hers. Nagi was thankful.

* * *

Iemitsu exited his car, slamming the door behind him as he trotted across the pavement and towards his house, an eager smile lighting up the harsh lines of his face. The mess back in Italy wasn't done with, though his part cleaning it was. It had been more than stressful, so he was glad he was home again. He would soon be able to see his lovely wife and precocious daughter, and he couldn't wait!

Once her reached the door, he reached for his key only to find that it opened at his touch; it had been left unlocked. That was just his Nana, who was such a ray of sunshine that she did not comprehend the dangers that existed just outside of her home; so pure and unsullied. It was something none of the mafioso he interacted with had stayed, and so something he priced and coveted. It was a shame that little Tsuna-chan seemed to be losing that same innocence, but then, he supposed he was proud of her for that as well.

He was inside the hallway and in the progress of putting down his suitcase (his builders' disguise) when something struck him. He froze, realizing that there were scuff marks on the lacquered wood, and his Nana would not abide for that. Something was wrong. He slowly straightened himself, hand twitching towards the lining of his coat, were he'd stored his gun.

Then, he could see movement from the corner of his eye, from the entrance, and he'd whipped out the gun before the enemy could even blink. It was only when the enemy lifted his hands to show he was defenseless, that he realized who it was; Tsuna-chan's oldest friend, and the same one who'd ostracized her for the last six months. He wondered whether he should still shoot, but seeing the grave way Yamamoto held himself, he lowered it instead. He gave him five seconds to explain what he was doing there.

"Tsuna and Sawada-chan were both abducted six days ago." But that couldn't be possible, could it? Iemitsu had his people send him hourly reports on the welfare of his Nana, as well as another two of his men report on Tsuna-chan's. Sure, he'd compromised by having himself be more at home, where he could keep an eye on things, and use only four of his men, who were then switched with another four through a rotating schedule. . . but even then, from whom had those hourly reports come from? He would think he could recognise his subordinates voice by ear, right?

Iemitsu pushed past the kid back to the front of his house, where he walked over to his mail box, feeling instinct flutter and send him there. It was the same instinct he'd ignored in his eagerness to see his family again, though exhaustion had probably also played a hand. And indeed, there was a crisp letter inside, addressed to a certain 'Sawada Iemitsu,' concerning whether or not he'd be able to see his wife and kid again.

He read, the lines of his face starkly deepening. His wife and Tsuna had been sent to different locations. Both of them were to stay in the abductors' possession for as long as he rejected a certain 'Xanxus,' right to be Vongola heir. If he publically changed his stance, his family would be sent back, unharmed.

This wasn't the Varia's doing, he knew at once. Despite being an assassination squad, they weren't at all likely to pull such a outrageous stunt; not when their boss' life still hung in the balance. So it was probably just the handiwork of an opposing faction inside the Vongola. There were many such factions, and a lot of them placed their loyalty squarely behind Xanxus, who was to bring the Vongola to new and even more violent heights.

Iemitsu spat over his shoulder. Idiots. Complete imbeciles. He couldn't turn his back on Nono's wishes like that. Even if he wanted to, it would mean betraying the man, and even Iemitsu wasn't able to do that without repercussions that may or may not end up leading to his death. Sure, he was part of the CEDEF and not the Vongola, but they were separate in name only. CEDEF was actually just another group dependent on the Vongola to keep it afloat. Most of his subordinates were part of Vongola. Most of his assignments came from the Vongola. It was just sheer impossibility.

The kid, whom he'd been ignoring, coughed to draw his attention. Iemitsu turned around to glare at the child, who didn't quiver underneath it's weight, for some reason. His eyes were a sharp golden brown, which very efficiently managed to conceal the feelings he didn't want to put on display. He could see his worry, his anger, but underneath that there was nothing, while at the very least Iemitsu would have expected him to feel guilty. Or maybe he was projecting his own feelings onto the other, that was just as likely.

He drew out a map, which had been circled and underlined. "We - Tsuna's friends - plotted the route the abductor most likely took." Iemitsu frowned down at the kid, skeptical. Yamamoto looked up at him, his face a tense mask of determination.  
"And how did you do that?" He asked, taking a hold of the map. He could see how they'd come to their conclusion. He listened to Yamamoto's rushed explanation, actually feeling impressed.

"What are you waiting for? Let's comb the area," Iemitsu suggested, a cheered up. He drew an arm around the boy and marched with him to the car.  
"Everyone else in my group is already doing so," the child told him. "I was actually supposed to wait here for them." But Iemitsu wasn't going to allow the kid to get away, not if he was partly to blame for the kidnappings, considering he was Tsuna's friend and if they'd been on good terms, Tsuna would have been away by the time Nana let the kidnappers in.

He ignored the fact that abductors would have probably still gotten to Tsuna too, if they were determined enough. The engined started, and he reversed out of the parking lot, until he was driving through the streets.

* * *

It was lunch time, and this time when the freckled man entered with the tray, it was also with a pack of cards. Nagi made sure to clap her hands in delight. Tsuna, meanwhile, sat up, her face a mask of eagerness. She accepted the pack, making sure to thank him, and when he left, she and Nagi exchanged high fives. It'd been a success. Now, if only they could keep it going. Still, they were bored, so even if they only had a pack of cards. . . at least they had a pack of cards.

"Do you know any card games?" Tsuna asked Nagi, as she resumed leaning against the panels of the bed. The other shook her head and Tsuna sighed in frustration. "Well, if we ask the one who brings us dinner, they'll probably think we're putting their present to good use." That would contribute very well towards their efforts to have their kidnappers regard them warmly.

Man, if only she could safely attack the guy without having to worry about her mother's life. That would make things be so much more easier.

* * *

"So, how are we supposed to find out which building is holding Tsuna?" Hana asked, sharing an uncertain glance with Gokudera. Byakuran was idling next to him on the pavement, his hands in his pockets. He was far too relaxed for the tense situation they happened to be imprisoned in.  
He apparently believed he had an answer to her question;  
"We just have to look for the silver BMW and which building it is parked at."

That made sense, except: "What if it's in a garage somewhere? Or in a parking place somewhere removed from the building?" Hana kicked at the cracked tile beneath her feet, frustrated beyond belief. They weren't getting anywhere, even though they knew where exactly to look. It was pathetic, and they were pathetic for not having found Tsuna yet, despite being so agonizingly close.

Gokudera swore something awful as it sank in for him. "Then what can we do?!" He veritably growled, before something struck him. "Let's just detonate bombs around the place; those rats will then probably come out of hiding just to see what's going on."  
"Yes, but that would mean having to deal with the innocent citizens coming out too - and calling the cops, no doubt." Hana had to let him down, though she sorely wished things were as easy as that.

They were in the middle of such a discussion when Hana's phone rang. Pursing her lips, she pulled it out of her pocket and pressed the receiver against her ear with a murmur of "Hana, speaking." It was Yamamoto over the line, and he told her all about what had occurred just minutes after they'd arrived at the area.  
"Is that so? Bring Sawada-san over the line, then." Yamamoto did as he was told, as he should have.

"Iemitsu here," a deeper voice answered. "What can you tell me from your efforts so far?" Hana's nose twitched like she'd smelled curled milk. Did he think he could just bare in and immediately take over the rescue operation? When his absence had been what had brought the abduction to happen in the first place? She thought not.  
"You'll know when you get here," she said instead and hung up on him. Probably not the best idea that she'd ever had, but infinitely the most satisfying.

"You know," she commented to Gokudera, very much wishing to show Iemitsu up by finding Tsuna's location before he arrived, "Maybe there is a way we can put you to use. . . "

* * *

"Get up," the man who kidnapped her said, and there was something about the tight manner about his face that brought anxious worry to mind. There was a gun in his hands. Tsuna got up. He ushered the both of them, his captives, out of the room and into a hallway with peeled wallpaper. Three other men in white suits joined them, and they were similarly armed.

"What's happened?" Nagi dared ask, only for one of the man to threaten her with the blunt edge of her knife, and she quietened back down. From where Nagi was pressed up against her, Tsuna could feel the acceleration of her rapid heartbeat, and tightened her hand around the other's. This was scary - even if she wished to, she wasn't proficient enough to take on four armed men at the same time. This feeling of renewed helplessness. . .

"We have to get out here, quick, or we'll suffocate!" one of the men, the blue-eyed one, shouted at his companions only to get hit for his troubles. It seemed to do the job of snapping him out of his history, for he quietened soon after, grimfaced. Speaking of which, smoke was sliding underneath the doors from the outside, and it smelled distinctly like someone outside had had a barbeque.

They were carted outside, where they were made to take their places inside of a car - a Lamborghini, this time. Two of the men joined her, one in the back with them, and another to drive it. The gun was aimed towards them, as the other two men entered a different car - the silver BMW. The man at the back was muttering something to himself, and she could smell the acrid scent of sweat. She could hear him only at the very edge of her hearing; "Dammit, nobody told us she was part of the Young Lion's brood."

The air outside was noxious, like someone had set fire to the surrounding area, and it was hard to see and even harder to breath. The other car left, speeding out of there like the hounds of hell were snapping at their feet. Tsuna was now utterly confused, and so was Nagi, who'd huddled into herself and hadn't yet let go of Tsuna's hand. She was thankful for the support. Still, though; if all the gang members were getting the hell out of dodge, where was her mother? She hadn't caught even one glimpse of the woman, even though she supposed her abductors' hideout had been emptied. Was she being held somewhere else?

Tsuna could feel the floor of the car vibrate beneath her, before the car was soon soon following closely behind the other. They shot around the corner and out of the suburb, and that was where she paid attention to the area outside, seeing charcoal colour parts of the street black. And there she could see a barricade at the end of the street - so many people accompanying it, and no junction to turn. The man beside her started praying even louder, and the driver swore. Tsuna's eyes widened, seeing all of her friends stand at the sidelines, seeing her daddy as well.

The Lamborghini pulled over, as it had no other choice, and her father was there as well as Basil . . . and Basil was on fire!? What? Their car stopped as well, and the two men didn't even put up a semblance of fight, crying "We're innocent mercenaries! We didn't know!" as the door were opened by a darkly sneering Hayato and an amused Byakuran. Hayato proceeded to drag the one sitting with them outside, confiscate the guy's gun and then light up two sticks of dynamite.

Tsuna blinked. What the hell had just happened?

A/N So, you guys, a question; what do you think your flames would be? Tell me! I'm super curious! Speaking of which, mine would be Cloud~ because I'm just that awesome. And antisocial. Also, and more importantly, this was rather anticlimactic. My apologies. :P Still, where is Nana, do you think?


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Don't own

Chapter twenty.

Three hours earlier that day.

Shoichi knocked on the door, and it swung completely open, and he was faced with the trusting figure of an elderly man. "Do you know from who the silver BMW belongs?" he asked, and then fudged on his reason. "I would like to know from which dealership the owner bought it, as it seemed quite good." That was a terrible reason. He winced at Hana radiating disapproval from the corner of his eyes.

The elderly man looked around to see whether the owner was out, obviously sensing that Shoichi had been lying, before gesturing for Shoichi to come closer and whispering the answer underneath his breath. It was either that, or the elderly man knew that there was something wrong with the owner of the car. Shoichi liked to believe it was the latter, rather than his difficulty at lying.

So, he decided to take the plunge; "So, if you know about the car's owner, then do you know anything else about him?" The elderly man blanched, his whole frame coiling as if he was preparing to slam the door shut, but Shoichi stuck his foot between the door, cringing as he did so. He didn't want to come across as untoward, but there was absolutely no other way they'd get some intel on the kidnappers. He honestly had no choice.

The old man's chest heaved, and he took another swift look of their surroundings, before inviting them in. Shoichi pressed his lips into a thin line, upset with himself, even as he gestured for Tsuna's other friends to follow him inside. Once all five of them had gathered in the tanned man's kitchen, the man drew the curtains and sat down at his table.

"There are thirteen of them in total," he told them, his voice grave. "Ten men and three woman." He explained that they'd been seen logging around suspicious packages, and sometimes they'd been seen wielding guns. Apparently they owned three residences in the area, one of which was a normal house and two others which were storage boxes. The group had the whole neighbourhood frightened, but the time his ex had called the police, they arrived at the scene before they left again without detaining those that had definitely been armed with weapons, a suspicious bulge in their uniform trousers.

Shoichi's voice rose in indignation. "So those police officers were _bribed?" _Wasn't that something that only happened on television shows? He could barely believe it, and yet the evidence sat right before him, staring back at him with every bit of determination an eighty something could possess. That was surprisingly a lot.

"Exactly," a wrinkled hand closed around the edge of the table, like it's owner was trying to distract himself from his anger. Hana crossed her arms, bumping her shoulders against the fridge. "That's very typical," she declared, as if it was something common that she herself had seen happen a lot. Right, she was the daughter of a yakuza boss, wasn't she? Shoichi buried his head into his hands. Right.

"Does everyone dislike that group?" Hana suddenly questioned, sharing a glance with Byakuran. The old man nodded vigorously, propping up his elbows onto the table, leaning towards them.  
"What do you have in mind?" he asked, apparently reading something into that glance. Shoichi scratched at the skin beneath his collar. What were they planning to do now? -And would it help them save Tsuna? Hana licked her chapped lips.

"Well. . . . " she explained her idea with help from Byakuran, who seemed able to read her mind. And that was how they found themselves walking from house to house, knocking on the doors and ringing the bells.  
"Would you like to help us set up a blockage so that we can get rid of those thugs, once and for all?" was asked and many such variations, and after seeing just how many people had already agreed, they did so as well.

It was unfortunate that they weren't done by the time that Iemitsu's car pulled up. Hana was especially chagrined. "So we know we're Tsuna-kun's being held," Byakuran told Iemitsu, smiling amicably and doing his utter best to seem interest. Iemitsu didn't take much interest in him, instead turning towards Hana for a report, probably because she happened to be the daughter of a don, and so had the highest status among them. Byakuran took the slight strangely well.

Shoichi had the unfortunate hunch that Byakuran was actually totally planning on getting back at Iemitsu at a later date, and _that's _why he was smiling in such delight. He resisted the urge to slap his forehead in exasperation. Iemitsu happened to be a mafia boss - not someone to mess with, even if you did happen to be Byakuran, or friends with his daughter. Yamamoto pursed his lips, but stayed silent.

"We're going to make a blockage, and then smoke the enemies out," Hana impatiently explained, gesturing towards the crowd they'd already managed to recruit for the cause. Iemitsu frowned.  
"And what if the enemies panic?" he asked, because that was possible. "And harm my precious daughter in the progress?" Shoichi could understand his worry and turned to give Hana a stare with baleful eyes, curious as to her answer.

Hana seemed uncertain; pulling at her collar like the air had become stiffening. "Well, do you really think it likely that those kinds of people would harm Tsuna if they knew you were here? And that by keeping her unharmed, they would have a likelier chance of making it out alive?" That seemed to put Iemitsu back into being contemplative, as he rubbed his chin and stared Hana down.  
"And how do you suggest we make the kidnappers aware of my presence here?"

"Excuse me," a young adult said, barging into the conversation with very little grace. "But most of the thugs stay in the storage boxes, to protect their wares. So if you could make an appearance there, they'll probably let their people know?" She'd began pretty confidently, but by the end her voice had taken on a squeaky articulation, because she was met with Gokudera's intense stare, as if she'd inspired him in someway.

"First we have to continue putting up the barricade," Hana interrupted. "Or else they'll disappear before they could even do something. Speaking of which, if they see what we're doing, they'll probably tear their way through the streets before we're even done." She had a point, Shoichi had to agree. Gokudera immediately came up with, what was to him, a valid solution.  
"What if I use these smoke bombs?" He'd somehow whipped them out during their conversation, and held three of them between his fingers.

Shoichi opened his mouth to shoot his such a wild idea down, when Byakuran clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Let the kid have his fun," the other suggested. Was this all just a game to him? Shoichi brushed off the other's hand, just as he heard Iemitsu give Gokudera the go ahead. Of course. What was he thinking, of course the world turned on cartoon logic.

And so Iemitsu, and Gokudera with his bombs, waited until the other three were done recruiting. In the end, fourteen citizens turned them down, though the rest didn't and they had some thirty people to set up the barricade made of cars and whatever was laying around. Iemitsu phoned for some back up in the form of Basil. Everything sped up from there, as Iemitsu brazenly walked up to the entrance of one of the storage boxes, Gokudera trailing after, and knocked. He was resting one ready hand on his gun.

When a man opened the door, wearing a white suit, he was promptly shot in the face before he could even react. There were gasps from the bystanders, but Iemitsu ignored them, nimbly stepping past the corpse to enter further in. Gokudera hesitated, staring at the corpse, before he followed after. There was a cacophony of gun shots ringing through the silence. A young man fainted, and a few of the kids ooh and aahed in complete fascination. Shoichi clutched his stomach, and Byakuran's resumed his grip on his shoulder, but this one was more of a comforting touch.

Then, there was cursing and a round of banging, before a man ran out of the storage box, his mobile phone pressed to the horn of his ear with a trembling hand. "I don't know man, I never heard _that we were_ **screwing **with the V_ongola!"_ There was a gun in his hand, but Shoichi could see that he was not paying attention to his environment. On autopilot, the man cursed up a storm and gestured vehemently as he talked.

Gokudera stepped out from the shadows of the entrance, and lobbed a grenade at him, when he was quite a distance away from the crowd of bystanders. It exploded spectacularly with contact of the ruddy man's skin. His death cries echoed inside the receiver, before it slipped from his grasp and he fell to his knees, and then his face hit the asphalt. Someone vomited his dinner up, and Gokudera decided to take the opportunity of igniting his smoke bombs.

Shoichi could feel himself trembling, but it was like from a great distance. Byakuran murmured in his ear. He was no longer smiling. "It'll soon be over - and we'll get Tsuna-chan, remember?" Shoichi needed that - he needed to recognise what was at stake here, and how this wasn't unjust retribution on innocent people.  
Hana was smiling grimly. She didn't seem to be enjoying this, but there was an emphatic sense of justice to the firm tilt of her jaw. The smoke filled the area - it wasn't dangerous, but it sure smelled like the aftermath of a thunderclap.

Yamamoto stared at the corpse, his eyes distant, and Basil arrived, his hair on fire.

* * *

"That was what happened?" Tsuna asked, turning her gaze towards Yamamoto for confirmation. "You - you tried to commit suicide? After ignoring my advice?"  
She had been ushered into her father's car, after which Iemitsu had taken inventory of her health or lack thereof. She'd apparently lost weight, and she could understand that, considering she had had only water and rice to eat, which wasn't the most nourishing of food. Nagi was apparently at a worse state, which made sense.

That was when she interrogated Yamamoto, because he was her confidante. Even if he hadn't been for quite some time. Being kidnapped put things in perspective and she couldn't be angry at him anymore - she was too happy to be able to even see him still. Speaking of which, she turned her head towards the front of the car, where her father was tending to Nagi's bruises. "Daddy, have you found mom yet?" Yamamoto seemed to grow stiff. She took that as her answer.

"No, you haven't." Her voice had taken on a sharp, accusative tone. She couldn't stop herself, really. She pressed herself deeper into her seat, chewing the inside of her cheek. Hana sat at the other side of her, and was kind enough to draw her into a side hug. "At least you're alright," she said, as if that was a consolation somehow. How selfish of her. She was warmth, though, and smelled like cinnamon.

"Thank god thou are alright," Basil agreed, his voice coming from the trunk, where he'd nestled himself for some reason, like he was some small woodland creature using the trunk as a burrow! How cute. Still, there was one thing that was bothering her. "Why was your head on fire?" and why had the flame been unable to harm him in any visible way? Iemitsu and Basil shared a glance, and there was no response.

Byakuran and Shoichi, after ascertaining that she was alright and after introducing themselves to Nagi, had already left. In the meantime, Iemitsu had called a cleanup crew to take care of the mess, and afterwards, the people from the neighbourhood had been so kind as to thank them - apparently believing Iemitsu to be the member of some secret police, ironically enough - before they retired back to the safety of their homes.

"Tsunayoshi-sama, forgive me, for I have let you down," Hayato had taken to kneeling just outside of the car, and at her feet, his head bowed in contrite. Tsuna did not have the energy to deal with this.  
"Yamamoto told me that you prevented his death, didn't you, Hayato-kun? I forgive you for everything you think you have to make up for. Now stand." He did as she told him, taking in the serious arch to her brows.

Tsuna patted the space next to her - "You can sit here, next to me," she decreed, and so it would be, as Hana obligingly moving so that the slender frame of Hayato could take his place. She tugged him into a hug, and then Yamamoto joined that hug, and Hana tried to get around Hayato to hug her as well, and it had become the ever esteemed cuddle pile, and daddy cooed from the front and Nagi was chuckling, but Tsuna could see her melancholy. So she gestured towards herself, and Nagi took the invitation, and then there was crying, but they were tears of joy.

"I thought I was never going to see you again, Tsunayoshi-sama!" Hayato sobbed into the curve of her shoulders.  
"Tsuna!" She cried back, actually crying, "Call me Tsuna." It was all very wet, and all very touching, and it was actually a first for Tsuna and she was feeling kind of uncomfortable but kind of warm, too.  
"Oh, and Nagi, let's be friends!" The other murmured her answer in Tsuna's stomach, and it was a definite yes.

And so, they all crammed into the car, and it drove them towards a hotel (since the Sawada house apparently wasn't safe anymore.) They soon entered a rather luxurious hotel (anything for Iemitsu's adorably mature daughter.) Tsuna didn't want Hayato or Hana to feel uncomfortable with their surroundings, and considering both (originally) came from a rich family. . .

"Yes, I'm safe, and so is Tsuna, and the CEDEF leader will keep me save," Hana assured into the receiver, sitting slouched on top of the cabinet. She rolled her eyes at Tsuna, as if she was trying to share her exasperation about over protective caretakers. Tsuna couldn't exactly share this feeling, considering her Maman happened to have been kidnapped and she'd rather she be here and overprotective then out there and in an infinite amount of danger.

Nagi was sitting next to her, once again supporting her weight on her knees, and seemed to sense her mood for she leaned over to pat Tsuna on the head like she was some sort of cat and she couldn't resist. It didn't help that the girl was rubbing Tsuna's fluffy curls around her fingers. How very awkward, yet it was a nice feeling, which just made it worse. Tsuna batted at her wrist. At least that had managed to distract her from Hana's unthoughtful reaction.

"Do you want room service?" Hayato's voice interrupted. He was like a dog with a wagging tail, waiting for his owner's answer. On better news, he'd taken to calling her 'Tsuna-sama.' She shook her head, finally managing to shift Nagi's hand from her hair. "I'm not hungry," she excused at his kicked puppy look, which was admittedly adorable, but wasn't as adorable as Nagi and Basil and Kyoko were, by simply existing.

Speaking of which; "Hey Basil, tell me how you didn't get burnt from that flame on the crown of your head?" There was no answer, so Tsuna frowned, and craned her head so she could look behind her shoulder. She could see Iemitsu there, interrogating the four kidnappers who he hadn't killed yet for that excess purpose, but no Basil. Maybe he was in one of the adjoining bedrooms? She stood up from the sofa, but then Nagi's hand on her sleeve stopped her. Her forlorn look caused her to sit back down. She could interrogate Basil later.

A/N Here. Another chapter. A little shorter than the previous one, but then, that's because I wrote it in far too little time and now have a headache. Enjoy, or else.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-one.

Six days earlier.

"Ara?" Nana questioned when she woke up, finding herself in a black space. She sat up, crouching, squinting through the darkness. What exactly was going on? She could only remember the previous day, and how she'd opened the door to receive her new guests. So how exactly had she found herself there, in such a dark and damp environment?

She tried to remember, but the memory evaded her like wisps of smoke, difficult to grasp and always impossible to reach. There was a strong scent of alcohol coming from the corner, but outside of her own breathing, there was no other living thing. She moved, straightening herself as she pushed herself to her feet, her balance automatically adjusting herself despite the lack of light.

Her head was like a church bell - the insides seemed to be vibrating to some inaudible beat. She brought her hands up to rub her temples. There was a gritty feeling to her eyes, and she blinked several times to get rid of it. "Maybe there's a light?" she wondered to herself. She couldn't feel the air on her skin, so she was fairly sure there weren't any windows. She gathered herself enough that she could manage the trip through the wide area, sometimes catching herself on the many obstacles that the cellar - as she supposed that would excuse the lack of windows - had stored.

Eventually, she reached a staircase, at the top of which happened to be the light switch. She flicked it, but nothing happened. She narrowed her eyes in slits, then tried the door. It was locked. That was when it occurred to her that she might indeed be in deep trouble, perhaps the same kind of trouble that had met her when she and Iemitsu had first started dating.

She retreated to the back of the room, where a sleeping bag had been readied. She supposed this was to act as her bed for now on. Before she used it, however, she checked the fabric, and the interior of which. It felt rather dry, but since the cellar happened to be so damp, she wasn't really sure of it. She frowned, her head given a particular spectacular spike. She was trying to phaseout her own panic by making herself busy, but there wasn't much else left to do. Maybe she could go investigate that alcoholic smell?

* * *

Present time.

"I'm sorry, but you'd be more useful recuperating for now." was the first thing Tsuna heard, concerning the matter of her mother's kidnapping, and how she was not in any way allowed to help. She really wished she could protest, but his words rang true. Still, Tsuna was taken aback by her father's calm refutation, having expected a more macho answer from him, reaffirming his imaginative manhood. Something like, "Your father will commence on his duty as husband towards his wife," or "I wouldn't be a man if I allowed my adorable daughter to be put into any more danger!"

"I'll be expecting an explanation on the fire, at the very least." It reminded her of her own, which she'd been made to seal away in an attempt to keep herself from dying. If anything, it doubly concerned her, since her permanent tired state was messing with her battle effectiveness. She liked to blame it for how pathetic she had been a week ago when up against the two kidnappers.

"Sure, sure," Iemitsu said, which for him was a signal that he wasn't paying her anymore mind after she accepted to recuperate and not try and involve herself with the rescue mission. She generated a discontent sound from the back of her throat.  
"More importantly, Tsuna-chan, would you mind bunking with Hayato for a while?" Father was rubbing the back of his neck, and it seemed that he was a bit uncomfortable about it. Tsuna supposed he wanted her safe, even if it was underneath the eyes of a known pervert - that Shamal.

"I'd rather stay with Hana," she declared, moving so Hana happened to be in her line of sight, who was talking with Nagi in a low volume. When she heard her name being mentioned, she looked up, blinking back at her. Tsuna smiled, removing her gaze and focusing it back on her father. Surely he couldn't deny that she'd be safe with Hana's family too? And she wouldn't have to deal with Shamal, which was a plus.

Her father made a face at the prospect. "Are you sure?" his pitch was at a whine, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Tsuna had to laugh.  
"I'm sure," she said after she'd recovered from her chuckling fit. And it was a fit, to be sure, like feathers had been tickling across her esophagus. She was pretty sure it was just her body making up for lost time. During that week, there had been very little to laugh at.

"Now that that's been settled, what do you want to do with your friend over there?" Iemitsu nodded towards Nagi, whom she presumed he was talking about.  
She shrugged, stiffly lifting her shoulders.  
"Whatever she wants to do, obviously." Tsuna didn't think it would be good to send her back home again, but Nagi would probably want to see her parents again despite this.

She raised her voice, her voice at an inquiring pitch; "Hey, Nagi-chan, what do you want to do right about now?" Nagi whipped her face away from Hana, looking briefly alarmed, before the lines of her face softened into contemplation. She looked so adorable like that, like a puzzled cat who was trying to figure out how a cubix cube works.  
"Obviously, she'd like to stay here," Hayato spoke for her, and then he stared across the room at Tsuna like he was expecting praise for his wild leap of thought.

Nagi seemed quite embarrassed, pink lightly dusting her cheeks. "If that is possible?" she questioned, ducking her head as everyone suddenly began paying her an excessive amount of attention. Hana propped her elbows onto the table with a ready answer.  
"Of course you can stay here." Tsuna was amused that Hana decided on this without looking to Iemitsu for confirmation. "In fact, you could come along with Tsuna-chan and I to my house?" Nagi violet eyes shone as she nodded, thanking her quite fervently. Hana was much better at receiving Nagi's gratitude in Tsuna's place.

She was whisked away from the hotel room not a half an hour later.

"Welcome back," Hikaru greeted them, absently fanning himself from the railing lining the stairs. She could see that it was in very pristine condition. Hana briskly nodded back at her 'uncle,' and they moved past him towards the first floor, to her room. Her room was remarkably spacious, and decorated with blue silver wallpaper. Whereas Tsuna was in possession of a bed, Hana apparently slept on a futon. Still, the room looked moderately comfortable with chromed furniture.

Tsuna sat down onto a cushion placed before a low standing table, shifting so that Nagi could take her place next to her. Opposite from them is where Hana had located herself. "So, what do we do now?" she questioned, running her finger tops over the fine wood of the table. She flickered her gaze upwards, to gaze at a portrait Hana had hanging from she and her father on the wall of shelves.

"I am going to ask your relatives about Iemitsu and what he's gotten us into through association," Tsuna told her, before amended slightly: "If that's alright with you." Hana shrugged, before she struck up another conversation with Nagi, while Tsuna disentangled herself from her seat and made her way outside of the room. She looked out into the hallway, and found that she could see about two guards stationed near, probably to protect Hana now that her family had been made paranoid through the Peach group's antics.

"What does she have against her father?" Nagi questioned, tipping her head to the side in her curiosity.

* * *

Five days earlier.

The phone rang insistently from the hallway a floor above her, where she was in the basement. Nana had tried the door: it had been locked. There had been a truly terrifying moment a second after she'd realized what the dull throbbing in her head meant. At least she hadn't noticed any exit or entrance wounds anywhere on her body, so she probably hadn't been injected with some substance to make her go to sleep. So it must have been the old knock on the back of the head method.

She'd experienced this before, actually, but that time it had been an injection and it had worked havoc with her system, making her sick. It was only when Iemitsu had retrieved her that she'd found out that she had been allergic to the materials inside that particular tranquilizer. She'd been far more terrified last time, she noted as she sighted her clenched fists, which were somehow not shaking with her inner anguish. Her lips pressed in a thin line. She could not see much else in front of her in the oppressive darkness.

The phone abruptly stopped ringing as it was pressed to someone's ear. She could hear the low hum of voices, before those also receded, and footsteps trailed away from the location. Nana released a sigh, hand on her neck, her pulse thrumming like the wings of a hummingbird. She swallowed compulsively, staying still so she could adequately catch her breath. When she thought she'd recovered, that was when she made her way across the invisible obstacles generously littering the basement floor. She had tried the light, but it hadn't worked. She expected that to her kidnappers that was just an extra perk.

More importantly, where was Tsu-kun? She'd been in the house at the same time as her, so it was certainly a possibility that she'd been kidnapped as well. Something cold and hard clung to her heart and solidified there, even as a tingling,ready feeling took place where there once had only been the possibility of hysteria. Well, that settled it. She had to leave here for Tsu-kun's sake, who was probably hidden away in this compound somewhere.

She squatted down near the wall, running her hands over the decayed form of a broom, the action energized with renewed purpose.

* * *

Present time.

Hana ran a hand through her hair, avoiding the question for a second. She settled with, "If Tsuna-kun has some time to think she usually comes to some wild conclusions." Though, considering the incident had been all of a plot aimed at Iemitsu, she wasn't wholly wrong. "And Tsuna-kun can't cope with the realizations she's come to, so she lashes out." That, and there was probably a steady amount of survivor's guilt infecting her blood right at the moment.

"That doesn't sound like Tsuna," Nagi said, her tone surprisingly firm. What did she know about Tsuna, outside of that very short amount of time they'd both been captives? Hana couldn't suppress a frown, fingers pushing against the wood beneath them for lack of any other way to blow out some stream. "Besides, it sounds a lot like you are judging her." Nagi softened her tone by the end, attempting not to offend, but to defend.

Hana blew a tangled lock from her forehead. "You're probably right," she told the other. She'd been getting aiming lessons, and hadn't yet the opportunity to test her new skills out. "But it is true that Tsuna-kun tends to try and avoid thinking about anything that upsets her until it all accumulates and she has to do something." Her fingers twitched, restless for the barrel of a gun.

"We shouldn't be talking about Tsuna like this," Nagi softly reprimanded, folding her hands onto her knees. Hana massaged her temples.

* * *

Four days ago.

She'd hidden herself inside the alcove just behind the stairs, where a prominent smell of alcohol came from. She could reach the top of the door with her broom, she tried it out herself. Her pulse was calm this time, and she shifted on her feet, angling her knees just so that they were bending just a touch. She waits, and then she could hear the barely there, rhythmic tap_tap_tap of someone making their way in her direction, like static over a radio station.

Her skin tingled with raw anticipation, and she resisted the urge to collapse into herself even more - Tsu-kun needed her, and the movement might be heard from her kidnapper, as close as they now were. There was only a door between them, a square inch of wood, and then it swung open and light did too, snapping at his heels, trying to intermingle with the darkness. She kept her breathing even, and she could hear the squeak of the men's dressy shoes, before he took a step outside of the doorway.

She took the opportunity that greeted her when his back was turned towards her, and bludgeoned him with the hard end of the staff, before her arms snaked around his waist - the only spot she could reach - while he was knocked of balance, and just to be sure she let the broom hit his temple a few more times, arm coming to fit across of his mouth - to stop him from screaming.

And then it was over and she blinked, her heart still casually beating, almost like it was syncing with her kidnappers calm breathing. The noise she had made during the mess would be accounted for in her advantage. She rolled the man to his side and took inventory of what exactly he had in his pockets. She found a few switchblades, a key, but more importantly, there was also a gun kept in his waistband and she pulled it out, warm hands circling the cold metal.

She climbed over the concrete block, not bothering to double around to take the stairs, and then she was making her way out of the basement and into the light. She closed the door behind her, locking it with one steady hand that she had to remove from the weapon to do so. She knew the scent that came from it, from booboos she's had to kiss, from her husband's form while he walked in after months of absence, and she almost thought she could like it.

There was nobody else in the hallway, nothing else but a stairwell leading from ground floor and a mirror, as well as an entrance leading to the garden. She ignored both, finding that her feet were leading her towards the room straight ahead of her and when she swung the door open, as if she belonged there, the man with his back to her didn't even look. She aimed in one fluid motion, both hands on the cold metal, and pulled the trigger.

The recoil took her by surprise, and her wrist hurt, but she could bulldozer over the pain. Her shot had careened wildly, and she had to squeeze the trigger a few more time, and her breathe was starting to grow ragged. She'd once been an archer but that was different than this. Only when she was certain that the kidnapper had stopped moving, and even then it was mainly because she ran out of bullets, a realization held her in it's cold embrace like a current of ice-water coursing through her veins.

"Drop the gun," a coolly composed voice advised her from the doorway, and she didn't have to look back to know he was holding one of his own. The gun was defunct anyway - useless. She let it slip from suddenly slippery hand, unable to catch it again as her heartrate hiked up. She folded her arms, holding her neck, stopping the scream from escaping. Tsu-kun needed her - Tsu-kun. . . . And perhaps a need she'd never felt before had bubbled up. The man kicked the gun away, walking within her line of sight.

"Massimo," the man was hissing through an agonized breath, eyes skittering over the remains of what had once been a man. Nana felt a urgent laugh scrape against her vocal cords.

* * *

Present time.

"Is that so?" Tsuna mused, not much of a question as it was a confirmation of what she hadn't wished to be true. She was leaning against the railing, Hikaru being so kind as to tell her what she needed to know. And what she needed showed her that she was in quite dire straits. It hadn't been the Peach group that had abducted her so brazenly from her house. Mercenaries, true, but they'd been working on an assignment from some dissents from that group Iemitsu happened to be a part of, the heirs of which had just all died out in brazen 'accidents.'

"I would say so," Hikaru answered and brought her out of the thoughts she'd been submerging herself into. She gave him a dismissive wave, leaving towards where she knew Hana and Nagi were waiting for her. She caught them in mid conversation, entering the room, marching over to place herself onto the bed. She chewed the inside of her cheek, stressed and everything else, and there was just so much going on that she couldn't stand it.

She communicated only in grunts for the rest of the night.

A/N What can I say? If you're busy, you're busy. I'd just like to thank everyone for their favourites (more than sixty! Wooh!) as well as the follows (hell to the yes! More than seventy-five!) and the reviews (and especially frequent reviewers dustflame and My name is Alice) as they mean a lot to me.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-two.

"Son," his dad faced him, the lines of his face harsher than before, as if he'd grown older overnight. "The school board contacted me on what happened." Yamamoto didn't know what to say, so he smiled a bit awkwardly, and said nothing. His father cleared his throat, before he pulled out a chair and sank down onto it. He leaned over to place an arm around Takeshi's shoulders. He cleared his throat, his volume lowering to an uncertain whisper.  
"Is it. . . does it have anything to do with the wedge I drove between you and your friend?"

That wasn't it at all. A smile seemed to have frozen on Takeshi's lips. That wasn't it at all. He didn't want to worry dad - and he would worry, if he knew - so he threw an arm around the edge of the table to scratch the back of his head, a laugh escaping his lips. "Tsuna's great, but she's. . . not. . . It has nothing to do with her. Can you give me some time?" He tried to signal that he was alright in the only way he could. Even if his arm was in a cast, and it would take a while before he'd be able to play baseball again, but he'd heal. Besides, that had never been the point, had it?

Dad's answer was one of his sighs. "Son," he stated, carefully, eyes peeled on Takeshi's face - probably so he could react to quicker to his unconscious cues. Or maybe because he believed Takeshi had something to hide. "People don't try and commit suicide on a whim." And so he'd done it - peeled of the plaster, aired out the dirty laundry, outed the existence of the the pink elephant in the room. In whatever way you named it, it all meant one thing.

Takeshi understood, or rather, Gokudera had made him understand. "Dad, it wasn't your fault," he said, his tone having regained some sort of confidence by the time the last vowel slipped from the grin plastered across his lips. Dad still looked skeptical. Takeshi tested the metal of the table beneath him, and wondered how his dad could be convinced. Mainly because he was part of the problem, but then, it had been Takeshi himself who had made it a problem.

It took conscious effort not to look up and follow every one of his dad's movements with golden brown eyes. His dad retreated from the room with a hiss of the sliding door closing, but he returned before Takeshi could really comprehend his loss. It was with a book, and Takeshi noticed that it was a thick one - it seemed to be a scrap book with many multicoloured bookends sticking out from the sides.

Dad slid the scrapbook across the cold metal and in Takeshi's direction. His breath stocked like he'd just been punched in the stomach, or was winded from the effort of trailing his gaze over pictures from his mother. There weren't many of them in the house, from what Takeshi had always known. He'd never asked for them. Most of them happened to be pictures from the games his mother had played. Many of them were Takeshi from when he was but a small child. Some of them had him with his hands wrapped around a baseball handle.

He'd used both his dad and his coach and his supporters as an excuse. Takeshi pursed his lips, and flipped a page, sliding his thumb down the more cracked and worn corners of some of the pictures. He looked back up to his dad, catching his eye. "I don't want to play baseball professionally anymore." Dad was taken aback, he could see it, but more from shock than any real emotion. He bulldoze forwards, before his dad could show anything outside of it - like disappointment, perhaps. "I still want to play, but as a coach."

"What brought this on?" dad asked him after a moment of thought, and not unkindly. Takeshi wasn't alright - he'd probably been at a downwards slope for quite some time, maybe without consciously noticing it. But maybe he could make it right again. Hey, he'd helped Tsuna - he'd saved a friend from death or something even worse, and he was feeling quite good with himslef. So, he'd better put that temporary buoyancy to good use, right?

So Takeshi smiled, his eyes creasing. And he remained silent.

* * *

She'd been tied up. They hadn't laid a hand on her besides that, but the way that the kidnappers' hand trembled, she would think that wasn't to their taste. There were three woman, and they'd been gracious enough to have one of them escort her to and inside the bathroom. Still Nana really wished she'd been successful at her previous escape attempt, as it didn't seem very likely that she will have another chance.

Actually, in hind-thought, she might have had far more success if she'd taken the switchblades and used the key - or even just used the gun as a projectile of sorts. Nana's lips curled downwards in the darkness. Since then, she'd been fruitlessly going over what had happen, what she could have done differently. There was a voice in her head, and it pointed out everything - _everything-_ and also, strangely, sounded a lot like that red-headed kid who was her daughter's friend.

One of the female kidnappers had taken to entering the cellar and talking to her - apparently Massimo had been an obstacle in her way of promotion, so she was grateful. Her face seemed permanently curled in a spiteful grin - she extended a hand - "My name is Erika." Nana couldn't shake her hand - and actually, she wanted the other to stop reminding her of the one she'd put down - so she nodded civilly back instead.  
"And mine is Sawada Nana."

Erika's eyebrows knitted as recognition sparked in green eyes like a ferocious wild fire flame. "Sawada?" she asked, her grip on Nana's shoulder suddenly very tight. "Sawada Iemitsu's wife, _that_ Sawada?" Nana nodded cheerfully - her husband was so great, everyone knew of him - "That is my husband, yes." She would love to gossip about him - to keep the fear and the voice and the guilt away, naturally - but Erika's face whitened and she fled. The door shut behind her, but in her haste, she did not lock it.

Nana's eyes zeroed in on the door. Her heartbeat seemed to slow down. Her fingers wound around the ropes. She wouldn't be able to get out of them without dislocating her wrists, and even then, it was quite possible that Erika would be returning before she was done. She was already pulling at her bounds before it even fully dawned upon her. There was a snap - she bit back a _scream_ - and then she was able to force her hands out of them. She made quick work of the rest of the rope-work.

She took with her the ropes when she sped out of the room - though she couldn't help her pained whimpers. The voice was mercifully silent - though it had never been a voice, only her own self doubts. And so she was out in the well light hallway and she could take a step out in the garden and leave. But she couldn't - not without Tsuna - though this time she did not walk through the living room. Instead, she took the entrance left, passing the staircase.

There was an open space - she turned left again - and it had the dimensions of a gym hall. The ceiling seemed to be in disrepair though the rest of the room seemed to have be in good use. Cold radiated from the floor upwards and said floor was somewhat slippery - maybe linoleum? It was at the corner of the hall - connected to the garden as well - that she noticed the house phone. She made a beeline for it.

She was able to push in her husband's mobile phone number - the one he always answered - and slid down onto the floor, her knees going weak with relief as she heard her husband's voice. "I'm at a large compound with a cellar," she told him hurriedly and wetly. He quietened down for her to report. "The abductors are a women - with a tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle and green eyes and green hair - and two other women who look exactly the same - no tattoos, but one has a curved scar going down from her hairline, they also have hazel eyes and blonde hair." She told him of the man who'd been there after Massimo.

She kept on talking over the phone - "We're tracing your location," Iemitsu explained - until she heard footsteps quickly approaching from the direction of the living room. "Hide," Iemitsu advised. She exhaled worriedly - her hands throbbing - "Have you found my location yet?" he told her to run and hide and quickly.  
She wrapped an arm over her shoulder, so that her hand could be supported underneath her chin. She winced. She should be going now.

And someone walked inside, the man, Nana's presence there taking him by surprise until he lifted his gun from his holder and aimed it at her. She dove behind the dresser the phone had sat upon, and even though it slipped from her grasp, it was still on, buying her time, buying her husband time. The man told her to come back quietly - there was no need to shoot, especially now that they knew how valuable she was as Iemitsu's wife - and her husband could hear everything over the receiver.

That gave her a strong amount of satisfaction.

* * *

Hayato rolled the cigarette between his fingertips, skin dusted with tobacco. It was night and he was outside, lying on his stomach, and staring at the entrance of the forest. He hadn't been able to stamp down on the hurt he felt that Tsuna hadn't been willing to stay at his place for a couple of days. Shamal wasn't much consolation, suggesting several perverted reasons for why Tsuna hadn't wanted to come.

There was only a little he could phase out before it became too much. That's why he was there now, inhaling the earth beneath him as the moon took it's turn round the sky. Apparently Shamal had arranged it so that he wouldn't have to attend school for the next few weeks. What excuse he gave. . .Hayato was not going to think about it.

He inhaled tar into his lungs, letting the nicotine calm him. He'd only recently began smoking and it was obvious that Shamal disapproved, but he wasn't his father. Hell, even if his father did disapprove, Hayato wouldn't have cared. Hana wasn't somebody of which he approved, but Tsuna should be safe in the folds of the yakuza who had recently even upped their security mostly because of that previous incident involving her.

He exhaled, ashes blowing away from him in the slight breeze that acted as that night's weather, before he shifted himself until he was sitting upright, his legs crossed. That baseball idiot had returned safely back home, with barely a scolding from Tsuna as he thought there should be. He glanced down at the cigarette, sightless. Maybe he'd be up to a visit, if he was still up at that time in the evening. Hayato snorted, throwing down his cigarette before he stubbed the flame out with his shoe, before he straightened to a stand. He slipped his hands into his pockets.

He turned to take his trip towards Takesushi.

* * *

Iemitsu was pacing, scrubbing at his face with a hand and mumbling to himself. He'd set his best men to investigate for any traces of his wife, only to hear absolutely nothing. These guys were professionals, and yet nothing had shown up yet - almost like the mercenaries that held his wife had ducked under - it didn't help that they probably had no clue who it was exactly they had stolen, or else something would have shown up just from their attempts to erase any trace of themselves.

The interrogation of those he'd taken had yielded nothing as apparently most of the mercenaries happened to be standoffish and only communicated with one another through extremely paranoid methods. They did not know where Nana was being held, and it was frustrating. So he'd taken his frustration out on the prone and defenseless forms of his inmates and disposed of them soon after.

On the bright-side, because the mercenaries did know anything about who's wife they had taken, he didn't have to worry about moving locations as long as the investigation was going on. They wouldn't have watchers out, taking note of his every move. He was still in the hotel-room he'd brought his daughter to, in other words.

His phone had been ringing non-stop with bi-quarterly reports on how Tsuna was doing - he'd learned since then, so it was Basil and Oregano who were paying an eye on her. Speaking of ringing, it burped out his ringtone for the third time that hour and vibrated on the table next to the sofa, where the cold remains of that day's dinner still dirtied the air. Of course, he'd become so paranoid that he was there within two steps and pressing the horn against his earlobe in less time than it took for a heart to throb.

"I'm at a large compound with a cellar," is what he heard in the voice of his wife. He almost dropped the phone in his delighted surprise. He wanted to ask her whether she'd been hurt - dread in the pit of his stomach - but she was telling him everything he needed to know. Since " -They also have hazel eyes and blonde hair." He used a program on his mobile phone to track down her location from where she was phoning, which was fairly easy but would take some time if it was a mobile phone.

But it seemed that it was not. Nana was starting to breathe heavily. "Hide," he advised, and gesturing for one of his men to read the address written on the phone. Now his wife was starting to sound frazzled. "Nana, leave. We've got this, you've done well, just don't let yourself get caught." Because then she would unarguably, be shipped off to another location before they could get to her. Chives left the hotel-room to get the car ready. Nana hadn't taken his advise, and he could hear a crisp French accent from over the phone threatening his wife.

He was out of the room and had entered his car and had started the engine before he could make himself punch the wall, however much he wanted to. That could wait. His wife's continued welfare could not. And so the car tore out of the parking lot and was driving far beyond the driving-limit. He wouldn't be stopped by a police car, though, because the CEDEF had long ago bribed them into allowing them to surpass the safety limits.

And so it would be for his precious daughter, when she was eventually driving.

* * *

"Mommy," Tsuna allowed herself to be buried into a great, big hug, immersing herself in the familiar sharp smell of juniper, no longer softened by the herbs and spices that she accumulated from the meals she enjoyed making. She was sniffling and hiding the evidence thereof by tucking away her face into the unwashed fabric of mama's blouse. Right, she probably hadn't even had time for a wash, considering that Tsuna had accosted her the moment she stepped a foot over Hana's threshold.

Iemitsu clapped her on the shoulder, smiling at the cute sight they made, before drifting away to talk to Hana's father, the don of the family. Tsuna watched him go from underneath Nana's arm. Then she turned to her mother, who smoothed down her hair. "I'm so glad you're safe," mother said and smiled. "Now, where was that friend you said you made?" Tsuna pointed towards where Nagi and Hana stood, outside on the grass.

Maman walked over to introduce herself. A weight had lifted from Tsuna's shoulders, and she could breathe easier now that her mother was alright. She turned to Hana. "Can I borrow your phone?" she asked, deliberately letting her eyes catch the light so they glittered marvelously. Hana didn't really react to the deliberate manipulation, simply pushing the phone into her hands and turning towards Tsuna's mother. It was her way of giving her some privacy.

Tsuna made her was across the garden, around the rose bushes, to place herself in the shade at the very edge of the premise. Smiling softly to herself, Tsuna hovered her fingertips over the keys, wondering who to call first and share with them the wondrous news. Eventually, since she didn't know Hayato's number out of her head, she settled for dialing Byakuran and Yuni's home.

Apparently, even if she had decided that she forgave Yamamoto for shunning her for six months, she actually hadn't. Who would have known?

A/N So, I've made a poll concerning this fanfic and pairings, so if you could give it a visit, that would be great! More importantly, how did like this chapter? I'd like the feedback, dear readers! Also, we've almost reached the point of eighty followers, which I have to thank you all for, as well as over sixty-five favourites!


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Don't own, and don't let the beginning of this chapter fool you. It's actually quite depressing.

Chapter twenty-three.

The first thing Tsuna did in the aftermath of the incident was get her hair cut to just underneath her ears. The haircut seemed to have intensified her natural spiky curls, and they were now everywhere. The cut disgruntled her - the result hadn't been as expected, and even when she allowed her mother to attack her with a straightener, it still did not tame.

Nagi, hands loosely clasped before her as she stood outside of the hairdressers, assured her that it wasn't that bad. "It doesn't look like I'm a particular unruly hedgehog?" Tsuna replied with a wrinkle of her nose, stepping outside and onto the smooth stone of the pavement. She was scratching at her hair with one hand, and trying to flatten a curl next to her ear with the other. The individual locks tended to bounce upwards, even if she pulled them back down again. The result was that it looked like she'd gotten a even shorter haircut, except that it seemed to spring upwards and show itself to be quite lengthy like that.

"Hedgehogs _are _adorable," Nagi answered apologetically in such a way that confirmed her worst fears. Tsuna let out a pitiful groan, low in her throat. Nana hid a chuckle behind a sleeve stitched with lace, as Tsuna's misfortune was apparently funny to her. Tsuna sent her mother a baleful glare, before she dropped her arms back at her sides.

It was Hana whom she turned to next, who was observing the scene from her position underneath a delicately woven parasol which she was holding in one talon-nailed hand. Speaking of manicures, Tsuna was in dire need of one, considering the condition of her nails, which had been left to grow out quite a lot. Not that her mother had the money to so, considering the money she did have came from Iemitsu, who gave her the money needed for upkeep of the house and to splurge now and then, and the rest was being kept to eventually send Tsuna to college without loans dogging at her heels.

Both the six month period before the kidnapping and the kidnapping itself was to blame for it. It was quite possible that Tsuna had been in such a deep grief since Yamamoto had turned his back on her that she'd been, kind of, neglecting her presentation. Hence also why she'd been in desperate need of a haircut.  
He wasn't here though - this was a girl's day out only. Tsuna had attempted to invite Yuni, but she'd already made plans.

Speaking of which, "Maman, have you spoken to Iemitsu about, you know, what happened?" She didn't think that her mother was that observant that she hadn't noticed the distinct lack of police cars waiting for her when she'd been rescued, and the distinct involvement of men and women dressed smartly in black suits and sunglasses.

Maman smiled icily in a way that was not familiar. "Your maman isn't to be taken a fool of, Tsu-kun," she confided with a rather violent glint in her eyes, before it dropped and she returned to was Nana Tsuna had grown up with. Tsuna only just managed to suppress the instinct to recoil. "Your handsome father knows that, though - he won't make that mistake again." She clapped her hands, eyes wide and doe-like. "Now, there's this wonderful boutique your mother wanted to visit with you just around the corner. . . "

Tsuna caught Nagi's eye, gesturing her befuddlement behind Maman's back. In sharp contrast to that, Hana seemed bored, almost like she was used to once harmless people outing themselves as also being wolves in sheep's clothes. They ended up trailing behind Nana like ducklings behind a mother goose, uncertain yet trusting all at the same time.

Eventually, the whole troupe of them filed into the mall before entering a high class clothing store who's owners her Maman happened to be friends with. Nana was handily able to convince Nagi into trying on three outfits while Hana leafed through the racks for something that suited her sharp sense of style, tutting at the amount of old fashioned clothing she found. Tsuna felt perfectly at home.

It was a minute or three before Nagi was comfortable enough leaving the changing room to show them her goods. She wasn't blushing at all, but Tsuna got a sense of bashfulness from where she was fidgeting in place. "It doesn't look that see-through, does it?" she asked, turning from this way to that. She had a natural way of posing that didn't seem too put on. Not like Tsuna herself, who tended to pose with jazz hands pointed at opposite sides from underneath her chin.

"I have noticed that see-through seems all the rage recently," Hana criticized with a moue of distaste twisting her cheeks. She was holding a sheer blouse draped over an arm, which just further illustrated her point. Nagi gaze slid to the vest she wore, frowning pensively. Seeing that Nagi took her words for an affirmation, she hurried to add, "But that's alright - actually, it looks really great on you." Considering that she didn't go into detail at what exactly looked great, Tsuna didn't really think that was what Hana was thinking at all.

"It seems to be too big at the shoulders," she added her two cents. She'd once been a tailor, so she knew all about at what dimensions a vest was supposed to stick. It was at that point that her maman returned with a few articles of clothing for Tsuna to try on, and the conversation was dropped as Nagi vanished back into the dressing room. Tsuna accepted the khaki trousers handed to her, and tried them on.

When she returned, it was to see that Nagi had already once again taken her place outside the dressing room to showcase another outfit. In the end, she rejected all three of them, declaring that since she didn't have any money anyway, and didn't want to be a bother. . . Of course, Nana tried to convince her she wasn't one. "I like seeing cute girls try on outfits," Maman sighed wistfully, and there were stars in her eyes. "It reminds me of when I was young, and that time in Rome when Tsu-kun's father. . ." she gave another, more forlorn sigh.

When they left, only Hana and maman had actually bought a few items - most of Hana's outfits both trendy and coldly professional and most of her mother's conservatively stylish. Tsuna would have liked to buy herself some clothes, but she had many perfectly tolerable back home, and also Iemitsu had by far better taste in clothing than her mother had, at least where Tsuna was concerned.

And so they continued on for ice-cream, since it was a hot day and they didn't have much else to do.

What, or rather, who she found there was surprising. Or rather, him finally popping out to say hello was surprising, since Tsuna was pretty sure Hayato had been following them from the start - he wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous of stalkers, and she'd heard him swear at a few people to move out of his way more than once. Hayato really did have a temper, didn't he?

"You could have joined us from the start," was his warm welcome he received while she accepted her vanilla ice-cream from the one behind the till.  
"I don't know what Tsuna-sama is saying," Hayato retorted, slouching casually in place, hands in his pockets. "I was just in the neighbourhood, and seeing that Tsuna-sama was here..." he trailed off with a put on shrug. Tsuna's eyes twitched, before she gestured for him to take a seat at the table everyone else already occupied. There was one lone chair there, originally left for her, that he could use.

But of course, he had to be difficult about it. "I'll sit on the floor so Tsuna-sama can have the chair," he said with a tilt to his chin, in a way he probably thought was valiant but actually. . .wasn't. Hana muttered something about monkeys into her sherbet.  
"Where has this habit of yours come from?" Tsuna asked him, taking her seat (it would be by far too bothersome to talk him out of it, so she let him keep his delusions.) He asked her what she was talking about. "You, talking, in third person," she patiently explained.

Nagi was kind enough to ask the next table over (as the outside of the ice-cream salon was packed) whether they could use their unoccupied chair. The answer was yes. So now they all had a chair and it was rather crowded around the circular table. Tsuna's ice-cream was starting to drip, so she took a few licks of sides of the cone. "You know," she began conversationally enough. "You smell of smoke." Hadn't he stopped that little distasteful habit of his?

"He was probably really stressed," Nagi excused him in Hayato's place, as Hayato probably wouldn't have come up for himself. That was interesting. Tsuna turned her gaze upon the other girl and Nagi met it with cool, unaffected lavender eyes like she knew she was in the right and it was Tsuna who was in the wrong. It was Tsuna who dropped her gaze first. Nagi was becoming bolder and bolder, like a cat who puffs themselves up three times their original size. It was cute.

It was cute, as long as she forgot that even cats had their claws, even if most of the times they kept them hidden.

* * *

The night before, at circa eight pm.

"Honey," Nana began, smiling sweetly as she clasped their hands together over the table. "We need to talk." Iemitsu looked as if he'd seen a ghost, and well should he, considering it had been a very long time since she'd shown this side of her to him. In fact, she'd say that she'd only ever displayed it just before they had began courting - before his romantic gestures had softened her heart.

"Why didn't you contact the police?" Was her first question, followed soon after by - "Why were you aimed with a rather illegal firearm?" - "Why did your entourage also carry several types of lethal weapons?" - "How did you come in possession of said weapons?" and the whammer - "Have you been keeping them in the house, where Tsu-kun might stumble upon them?" He winced at that one, contrite, but mainly because he'd been found out.

Her heart hardened at this knowledge. The aggressive interrogation continued in earnest. "And, more importantly, what is this about your infamy that even crooks know of your name and cringe?" Because even if, at the time, she'd been trying to keep herself at a positive state of mind, she'd taken note of Erika's strange reaction at hearing her surname, and how she spoke of Iemitsu by first name basis.

"But Nana," Iemitsu whined like the was the time he'd left the milk out and she'd been forced to throw it away and Tsuna had been unable to have her breakfast that day (as she'd refused to eat anything else - her darling daughter was notoriously picky.) The stressed line of her brow smoothed, even as her heart froze solid inside of her. This was the thing divorces were made of, she knew, but she wanted to give him one last chance.

"Do not speak that tone with me," she warned instead and waited to find out whether he would take the hint. He did, thank goodness, though his expression shifted to one holding a comical amount of seriousness. She'd think he was doing this on purpose, making it worse for himself, but Nana had the feeling he was just very clueless about anything that did not concern that work of him or his colleagues from work.

Speaking of work, she had a lot of hard questions concerning that to ask of him as well. She wouldn't have loved him any less if he'd long ago admitted to doing unscrupulous work, except he'd kept very quiet about it over the years. Tsuna was thirteen now, and she'd been married to him for two years before then, and he'd kept faithfully mum in a way he wasn't faithful to either Tsu-kun or her. She'd been able to tolerate his increasingly long absences, but she wasn't about to tolerate this.

She even thought if it had turned out that he'd been having an affair, well, that was only a physical kind of betrayal. This was a betrayal of the highest order - it was almost like he'd been masquerading as something else, and she was having doubts. Was the man she had fallen in love with actually who he was? Or had that all been a lie as well, as had been the tale he'd spun on what he was doing and what he would be willing to do, when the time dawned that such skills were needed.

"I love you," he told her, and his eyes kept hers captivated, the love inside them like a beacon that she clung to like an sailor clinging to driftwood at the aftermath of a shipwreck. He loved her, yes, and he loved Tsuna as well. The question she had to ask herself: was love enough? And what she also had to ask herself: if love was enough for _her, _what was best for her child? Tsuna was her everything: she identified foremost as a mother and only secondarily as an individual outside of it. It had been how she'd grown up in a household filled with love. She wanted that for her precocious daughter too.

"I'll tell you everything," he promised this only when a long moment had passed and she had not told him she loved him back. Finally, _finally _she saw comprehension dawn. He must know now that he could lose his wife if he did not immediately, pronto, with utmost haste set things right. So she listened, keeping her thoughts to herself, as he romanticized his family outside of his family, this **Vongola **and his subordinates in **CEDEF.**

He ran a thumb over her knuckles as he spoke, his hand holding hers with a gentle grip that she could pull away from if she wanted. Finally, once the clock tolled the arrival of midnight and his well of words ran dry, she allowed him to know how she felt about it. "I feel humiliated that you didn't trust me," she whispered in the dark, eyes bright with the light reflected from a nearby lamp. "I feel sad, too, that you didn't think to share with me such an intimate part of yourself, even if indirectly so. I feel like you're a stranger, like I didn't and still don't know you at all."

He swallowed and there was an unending grief in his stance, in the tenseness of firm skin underneath her unspoiled hands. She gave him a squeeze, knowing that he was preparing himself for the possibility that she would ask him for a divorce. She was feeling something close to vindication as well, wishing for him to feel this way, for him to sweat and know that he felt as helpless as she had felt in the grip of his enemies.

"Moreover," she said, "I feel like you put me and your daughter in danger by keeping us unaware of what was taking place around us." And that was, in the end, what it really came down to. Her daughter had been in possession of dangerous people for some six days, and this could have been prevented if he'd actually allowed her to know there was something to keep on her guard about. If she'd known that the possibility had existed, she wouldn't have left the door unlocked so often.

He looked so woeful, so much like he'd been simultaneously sucker-punched to the face as well as been left behind for the dogs, that she couldn't help letting some amount of sympathy crop up again beyond the heartache. Her heart didn't thaw - it would probably take a long time until she'd feel properly at ease around him - but it felt more like it was made out of limestone and less from cement. It may have shown up in her face, because a spark of hope suddenly lit up his cappuccino eyes.

"I," she swallowed the lump that grew in her throat, "I still love you." Her voice wavered, and she reached out to let her fingers frame his face. "Please, just keep me up to date on events, from now on?" She couldn't do it. Even if this would be to the disadvantage of her daughter, she couldn't leave him like this, not when her heart still sang with delight at the smooth sound of his voice, at his very presence, beneath the thin layer of frost.

She could see that he wanted to reach out and kiss her - she wanted him to do it - but he thought otherwise. That she made him scared of her - of showing affection - that hurt even more, but she knew it was necessary. She may have forgiven him, but for now, she was not ready to forget. Besides, that did not prevent her from pulling him into a kiss.

A/n A fuck there's tears in my eyes man. Is anybody else feeling those tears? My fingers were on fire, and before I knew it, this was what appeared. Sorry for people who don't wish to read about Nana. I'll make it up to you the next chapter, aye? Anyway, you know the poll? Very interesting things have turned up. Someone has actually voted for the Tsuna/tree pairing. You do not want to know how unreasonably happy that makes me, you do not. Don't forget to give it a whirl yourselves, or it's quite possible that Tsuna/tree and Hibari/tonfa will become a legit pairing in this story.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Don't own

Chapter twenty-four.

"Welcome home," a small toddler greeted her as she walked, bag slung over the shoulder, through the doorway into the kitchen. It was Reborn, her tutor who for some reason had finally returned. "Have you been slacking of?" he continued, as she hung her bag over the support of her chair before sitting down to give her aching feet some rest. She sent him a look of absolute deadpan, but otherwise did not answer.

The toddler jumped from the island of the kitchen, trotting towards her. "I can tell you about the flames," he told her, the look on his face quite unreadable. She peered back down at Reborn, a jolt running through her in her surprise.  
"You can? You would?" She asked him with the desperation of a horse that had been left to thirst even though there was a well full of water just a few metres away.

"I would," he affirmed with a calm nod of his head. He jumped up to sit on her shoulder. "But first of all and importantly, there's something else you should know."  
Tsuna looked around the room, the way he confined this to her convincing her that it was something she was to keep to herself. Iemitsu was out of the house - though he'd left a babysitter, called 'Chives,' behind, who'd taken to motionlessly standing guard before whatever room she happened to be. She'd had to force him to drink water several times already to prevent dehydration.

So she gestured for Reborn to move, which he did, and she then made her way towards the windows, where she drew back the curtains. These weren't the translucent orange type like those back in her previous house. She was still impressed that Iemitsu had this house ready after just three days. "Your mother, as well as you, are both directly related to the Vongola Primo."

She propped her elbows against the table. "And? In what way does that affect anything?" And what did that have to do with the flames? Reborn answered after a slight pause. "I think you know," his huge black holes for eyes met hers, glittering meaningfully. She squeezed her hands into fists, annoyed at the insinuation.  
"Nope, I really don't." Nope, she really didn't.

"First, you should know that there have recently been a serious of setbacks happening back in Italy," he told her. "Concerning the inheritance of the Vongola famiglia." That was in Italian, but it was close enough to 'family,' that she was pretty sure she understood what he was getting at.  
"Nope," she told him as her heartrate sped up, "Nope, don't even think about it." He was staring at her, _staring at her. _

"Dame-Tsuna, you think you have a choice?" A laugh was implied in the curved corners of Reborn's lips, and how he held his fedora hat by it's rim to tip it over his eyes. She stood up abruptly, the chair screeching as it was pushed back over the wood of the floorboards.  
"Of course I do. Freewill, you don't know about it?" He did not seem to be bothered by her opposition to the idea.

She turned her back to him and made to march out of the room, when she was delayed by his parting call - "It's an offer you literally can't refuse." Her lips curled at the cliche and she stormed into the hallway, slamming the door shut. She also managed to take Chives aback in the process of doing so, which was an unfortunate yet inevitable consequence.

"I'm going out," she told him as she turned left and towards the exit of the house. She didn't have to wait long until she heard falling into step from a few metres behind her. It was pure coincidence that her panic fueled route ended up taking her to Takesushi - Yamamoto's place. She asked Chives over her shoulder whether he had any money. He silently nodded her head, and she stopped, turning around to receive some of his yen - enough for a meal. Chives was kind of a pushover.

Halfway through her sushi she was delayed from finishing it at the arrival of a very unexpected pairing coming into the cantine from the backdoor. It was Yamamoto, yes, but he was joined by Hayato, who was busily arguing the merits of some scientific way of teaching over Yamamoto's more instinctive approach. His eyes lit up when his line of sight coincided with her and Chives, and then he made his way across of the room.

"How are you doing today, Tsuna-sama?" he asked. She hadn't been going to school for the last week, so he had cause for concern, she supposed. The gears of her mind were still whirling madly as she tried to cope with the reality that apparently, Yamamoto and Hayato had been seeing one another in some way. The same Yamamoto he'd been so antagonistic before all the mess had started. Also, and what really got to her, was that she hadn't even know.

"I'm doing great," she told him, voice thick with unkind sarcasm. She turned to regard Yamamoto, who was standing there at Hayato's elbow and he was observing her in turn. "Hey," she said and gave him a lame sort of wave. His eyebrows rose at the gesture, before his eyes slid down to trail over her half eaten meal.  
"You didn't have to pay for that; it could have been on the house." As if she already didn't know that. Man, Tsuna was feeling strangely uncharitable today.

Something struck her when she refocused her attention on Hayato. "Like, didn't you have a picture of the Vongola Primo?" There was a strange reaction from Chives, in that he actually showed emotion for once - chestnut brown eyes growing edgy.  
"You have a picture of the first boss?" he asked, suspicious. "Those are very hard to get," he explained for Tsuna's benefit.

"It's more of a drawing than a picture," Hayato defended himself. He then addressed Tsuna again, "And yes, I still have it. Tsuna-sama only has to say the word, and I'll go pick it up." There was an thrumming eagerness to his frame. She had the feeling that he wanted to do so right at the second.  
"We'll meet tomorrow after school, then," she suggested, allowing herself to be indulgent.

Yamamoto cleared his throat. "Can I come along, too?" Considering he was the exact opposite of the mafia that she was trying to prevent herself to think about. . . . Well, that wasn't too much to ask.  
"Of course." Chives, meanwhile, radiated disapproval probably for that exact same reason. Man, maybe he wasn't that much of a pushover after all, but just a consummate professional - or scared of Iemitsu.

It was likely to go either way.

* * *

Yuni bit the back of her pencil, intently focused on the text book before her, Byakuran nearby, and they were in the parlour. He was grinning to himself, chuckling now and then, and obviously trying to break her concentration and evoke a question from her. She frowned and focused even harder. What he was so giggly about would have to wait until she finally understood the terrifying force of nature that was maths. He wasn't making it easy.

And to think, she used to actually like maths. She didn't know what she was thinking. Maths was soulless and far too indirect. It was almost impossible to get the answer you needed to, because even if the answer was gotten, she'd get subtracted points if she didn't write exactly how she came to that answer. Even if it was the correct one. It was nonsensical. She sighed. She wouldn't be able to concentrate even if Byakuran wasn't there.

As such, she flopped onto her side and gave Byakuran an participatory nod. He smiled, eyes gleaming bewitchingly. "I think that we'll soon be getting a call from Tsunayoshi," he explained. There was this enigmatic gleam in his eye which put her on guard.  
"Will the call be good news? Or bad news?" she questioned, because with Byakuran it could go either way.

He focused his gaze upwards, and a bit to the side. "That depends," he informed her. "On whether or not everything will go according to the script." Yuni sat up, closing the book with a flick of a slim wrist.  
"What are you trying to say?" she asked, remembering vividly that he'd once thought that Tsuna would be male. She supposed, in his opinion, that was things going of script.

"Does it matter?" Byakuran apparently didn't think so, from his lackadaisical words and manner. He said that it depended, so that meant there was a very high chance that the news would end up being bad. She tensed, going rigid, as it occurred to her that he hadn't even acted like that when Tsuna or her friend had been kidnapped. So that meant this, whatever it was, was very, _very_ serious!

Maybe she should give Tsuna a preventative call, warn her to be on her guard, or at least do something that was not sitting there doing her homework! Disregarding her half-brother, she pulled herself to her feet and then ran across the room to step out into the hallway where the house telephone was stationed. She just pulled the phone of the receiver when she remembered that she didn't know Tsuna's number.

An amused Byakuran was so kind as to tell her when she came to ask.

* * *

Hikaru was smiling. He was smiling, and it was really the baring of his thin but sharp teeth. Hana stood beside him, her arms crossed in her severity. And before them happened to be Nagi's parents, whom the don had been able to call a meeting with under the pretense of a business transaction. Of course, that wasn't it at all. In all truth, they were here to threaten them with the knowledge of their daughter's kidnapping held over their heads. If the paparazzi found out that they didn't contact the police about it or even try paying the ransom, would cause a scandal.

"And yes, we would like that money in cash," Hibari told them, smiling grotesquely whilst one hand was absently petting his tonfa. If possible, Nagi's parents seemed to blanch even more at this than having their continued well being threatened. Maybe because there was something about Hibari, a strange readiness to his stance, that made it obvious that he was just raring to have at it. Also, it was rather disturbing how he was never without his tonfa either, which added to the impression she was sure he was trying to create.

It was now Hana's turn to shine. She coughed, drawing their attention to herself. "If you didn't know, I happen to be Nagi's friend. So if you could give Nagi some spending money, and sign her back into her gymnastics club, that would be great." She smiled. "You should want to do so; its your daughter, so it's no skin of your back, no?" Her expression darkened at how the father turned away to share a look with the woman.

"And if you treat Nagi with any of your previous vitriol. . . " Hana snarled, "Know that even in whatever country you escape to, you won't be able to hide from us." Seeing the looks of pure, naked fright on their faces was very satisfying, but not at all worth the amount of agony that Nagi had been made to go through. She couldn't do anymore though, not if she wanted to keep this from said girl.

She was a member of_ the family_ and_ the family_ were known for their generous wreaking of vengeance for their members' sake, which they had down almost to an art form. Of course, the flip-side to this was that they also had retribution down to an art form, which was often to the demerit of those members who decided betrayal was to their taste, which made signing up to Hana's yakuza something very little people wished to do, just in case.

"So, one of you is going to stay here, and the other Hikaru is going to accompany to a cash machine. You know what to do." Hikaru, who's fan happened to be made out of metal and would very easily be able to slit them from throat to throat were they to resist, smiled in a satisfactory manner. Hibari looked like he was torn between protesting this - he wanted to fight them and be done with it, so wanted to be where the action was, so she amended herself; "And Hibari, you'll guard the one staying here."

His smile at that was ugly.

* * *

Meanwhile, while Hana was busying herself with her friends' her parents, Nagi was wondering were they had gone of to. They had actually started to be home more, even if they still didn't interact with her that much outside of what was necessary and even then they seemed pretty cordial, outside of her father who had been pretty condescending.

So, since there was nothing to do inside the house with many of the staff having been fired recently so she was only surrounded by unfamiliar faces, she found herself ghosting the streets nearby. She greeted the shopkeepers from the streets she passed through. She was a sort of celebrity, considering her parents were businessmen who often happened to be featured in the tabloids, if only because of the abundant wealth they threw around. So most people knew her from face, even if she didn't often leave the house.

It hadn't surprised her that nobody seemed to have noticed her absence when she was still in the mercenaries clutches. That was alright though, since she now had actual friends to spend her time with and who had, so far, seemed pretty unflappable even at the evidence of her high status. She tilted her head, smiling at the birds perched upon the trees that had been planted at either side of the street. It was great, being in their presence, feeling like she was a part of something like she hadn't been part of her family unit.

She saw a flash of something ankle high from the corner of her eye, and whirled around, forearms lifted defensively in front of her. A cat mewed in complete contentment over the footpath a metre away from her. Nagi blinked, her heart still going one hundred miles a hour, and let out a startled and pleased laugh. This was Bibi, the cat she'd named not that long ago, who was a rare Turkish Van who's owners had abandoned it when the upkeep became too expensive due to the cat's ongoing health issues.

When the cat, an affectionate breed, strode it's way to her she crouched down, staring in it's mismatched eyes, and scratched behind the sweetheart's ears. Nagi cooed back at it in welcome, fondness swelling her heart. The feeling was not unlike what she felt when amongst her new friends. The sweetheart decided it had enough of being docile, and sat up again, swatting the air for no reason in particular, before it began to wind itself around her legs. Awwww. She felt like her heart was going to burst!

Eventually, she felt like she had to leave, so she gave the cat a soft nudge in a direction away from her. Bibi did not take the hint, that sweet soul, staring back at her with those huge eyes of her - one brown, the other blue - and Nagi bit her tongue to prevent another coo from escaping her throat. Finally after several shooing motions, it seemed to take the hint, turning around with her tail held high. Nagi smiled to herself and was about to take her route back home when she noticed that the cat caught sight of one of the birds she'd been eying earlier, on the tree across of the road.

It curved it's back, Bibi's bellow now lying low over the ground, and it began to slink its way across the street. That was alright - the traffic wasn't especially heavy that day. Still, Nagi waited until the cat had safely made her way across before she fully turned and began to walk away from the area. She had reached the intersection by the time she heard the jowl which had her jumping around, twisting in mid-air, and seeing a car go right for Bibi when the cat tried to make her way back.

She tore over the pavement, slippers battering the already battered tiles beneath her, and then she lunged for the cat which seemed to have grown stiff with shock. Her body collided both with the ground and the cat with excessive force, the cat flying away - poor kitty, she could remember thinking - before she was staring right into the windscreen and the terrified form of Sawada Nana, who was trying with all her might to turn the steering wheel.

When the pain hit, she wasn't so lucky as to be immediately knocked unconscious from the blow.

A/N I give you full permission to slap me with your backhand, for heightened humility, for the clusterfuck that I have just established. On other more happy news, people have been going to the poll! It is only sad that Tsuna/tree isn't in the lead, though two people have voted for Hibari/tonfa so I tried to corporate that in here, even if vaguely. So, those who haven't yet, please check the poll for your desired pairings (or alternatively no pairing at all.)


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-five.

Two weeks before present day.

"Why are we going to schoooool?" Ken whined, kicking at the cracked fence he was perched upon. Chikusa simply stared at the other over the rim of his glasses, Why did he feel the need to even ask and litter the air with stale words he'd worn away long ago, from when Mukuro had first told them? It was getting kind of exhausting having to deal with being his handler ever other day.

Ken, probably sensing Chikusa's increasing antipathy, amended himself slightly: "Alright, I know why we are going to school, but why does Mukuro-sama want us to go to school?" Because there was indeed a difference between the two.  
"Maybe you should ask him yourself?" Chikusa mocked, the underlying 'duh,' thick in his tone. Ken scowled, and resumed kicking the fence.

Speaking of Mukuro-sama, he was gone for the day, probably rolling them into Kokuyo High School like he had said he would. Promises actually meant something to him, and it was a trait Chikusa could only admire. Even if it did mean he'd have to immerse himself among crowded surroundings, which he sincerely hated doing. People were too loud, and having to pay attention to his tone so that he didn't accidentally offend people would be a drag.

Ken quickly grew tired of staying where he was. He hopped from the fence with an agility usually unnatural to a human, before he spun around to face him. He stuck a thumb in the direction of the footpath leading away from the planetarium. "I'm going to explore." The next words he squeezed out with obvious reluctance: "Wanna come along?"

Chikusa tilted his head to the side, pondering on the up and downsides of doing so. It would mean he wouldn't be able to receive Mukuro-sama when he returned, but it also meant that he'd score points in the 'socialising quota' of the day, as Mukuro liked to call it. That would only bring him in greater regard in Mukuro-sama's eyes. Being around Ken was such a bother, though, as Chikusa knew Ken didn't like him for being closer to Mukuro-sama, as Ken happened to belief himself to be barely tolerated.

That wasn't totally true, Chikusa knew. He'd never bother assuring other of his stable place at Mukuro's side, though. He couldn't find the energy in himself to really bother. If it wasn't at Mukuro's behest - and Mukuro-sama had never asked - than surely there was no real reason to do so? Ken was snapping his fingers in front of Chikusa's face now, getting increasingly incensed with Chikusa's ignore-it-till-it-goes-away tactics.

He rolled his eyes, pushing the other away by his shoulders, skin crawling from being forced into touching the other. "Just leave - but don't forget to come back by six, like Mukuro-sama dictated." His voice was at a careless monotone, as if he didn't even care enough to get himself worked up. When Ken left, he would go wash himself, he decided after a moment of careful thought.

Ken snorted, turning him his back, obviously trying to seem like Chikusa had not been successful at getting underneath his skin. Chikusa felt he could breathe easier when the other had left.

* * *

Ken scowled darkly to himself as he made his way out of Kokuyo land over the cobbled path. He pulled at his cuffs, feeling constricted. like it was crowded beneath his skin. What was that guy thinking? Not even bothering to treat Ken as if he was a real person, not even bothering to help Mukuro-sama with his goals outside of what he was appointed. It was like he wasn't at all dedicated to the cause, like he was passive aggressively fighting against it! It offended Ken, it offended his fine sensibilities. Ken sniffed to himself and rounded the corner, cutting left through the junction.

It was then while he was spacing out that, like out of some manga, he ended up colliding with another person. Another person with shoulder length, brown hair. Another person who smelled a lot like fragrant soap and sunshine. A female person. He reached out an arm to help steady said person, and she smiled back a beatific and thankful grin - the type he'd dreamt one day receiving from Mukuro-sama - or Chikusa, he wasn't picky - and he smiled back.

"Thank you for catching me, -san?" The female questioned him, and he immediately straightened his shoulders, puffing out his chest like he'd seen those cockatrices do on the discovery channel - "Joshima Ken. And it was no problem." He waited, anticipation tingling down his spine, for her to reciprocate. Instead, the girl released his hand - which she'd used to climb of the ground - and looked away from him as if she'd heard something.

She at least granted him an apologizing smile - a smile that still beamed like sunshine and didn't cringe back from him and his long, sharp teeth - before gesturing that she had to leave. "My brother's waiting for me," she explained, and yes, now that Ken listened, he could hear the somewhat scratchy voice of a human male call out for someone called - "Kyoko! Oiii, Kyoko!" - that he'd been unintentionally filtering out at the strength of her presence.

His smile dropped, miffed. "Well fine, have fun with your brother then," he insisted - though there was something close to butterflies cluttering his already cluttered windpipe at the fact that he now knew her name. Her smile became smaller, a bit more fond.  
"I will," she promised, and turned towards the road and the opposite side of which where her brother was still animatedly trying to gain her attention.

She hesitated before crossing, however, and her eyes seemed to suck him into her solar system. "It was nice meeting you, Joshima-san." And then she finally left him behind to stand there at the curb, feeling like the stars had realigned themselves out of their previous nice, and clear cut pattern. He smoothed the lapels of his shirt, before he went on his way.

His thoughts were still full of Kyoko.

* * *

Present day.

Tsuna was in the middle of a discussion with Chives while Hayato was fetching Primo's likeness when her phone went. Frowning to herself, she pulled it out of her pocket to stare at its shiny white exterior. Actually, as far as she knew, nobody knew her number yet. Growing uneasy, she pressed the receiver to her ear and waited. She surely hoped she wasn't already receiving automated calls from telecommuters. Or was that only with the home phone? She didn't really know.

If it was, she would be very concerned. Speaking of which, she was feeling quite odd in the meantime anyway, like there was a bad odour in the air that only she could smell, except there wasn't. It was all very strange. She thought a bit, but decided it was because she was trying to get out of confirming once and for all whether she, Sawada Tsunayoshi, might be eligible to being the heir to the Vongola empire. She turned her attention to the phone.

"Yes, Tsuna speaking," she began, only to be met with the concerned voice of Yuni, who explained that she had a 'bad feeling' brought about through Byakuran's weird behaviour - wasn't that normal? - and that she wondered whether anything had happened. "No," Tsuna replied. "Not from what I can mention." Yuni paused.  
"Then it's probably going to happen later. Just, be on your guard, okay?" Yuni took a deep breath, before continuing. "Is Chives with you?" Tsuna assured the other that she was surrounded by several of her friends.

"Can you please turn Gokudera-nii over the phone?" Yuni asked, her voice taking on a distant, absentminded tone. Tsuna frowned so hard her eyebrows knitted together, but passed along the phone once Hayato returned. Why was everyone suddenly developing relationships with one another that she knew nothing about? She felt a bit more reassured when Hayato seemed as gobsmacked over this as she was.

He left for the hallway for some privacy, before returning with eyes shining. Once Tsuna was allowed back on the phone Yuni spoke to her long enough to wish her a good day before she hung up. Now Tsuna was utterly, utterly curious. So she decided to voice her confusion. "What bee landed on your bonnet?"  
And he told her he was just happy that Yuni trusted Hayato to be the best person at protecting Tsuna. Whoa, it seemed that Yuni definitely was worried if she would resort to such flattery just so Tsuna would take her alarm seriously.

"So, that's the drawing?" Tsuna said, trying to steer the conversation back on track, nodding towards the drawing Hayato held crisp in one hand. He made his place across of her at the coffee table, laying it down, and smoothing down the time worn corners. Tsuna, swallowing compulsively, not sure whether this anxiety she was feeling was about the prospect of seeing herself in Primo's face, or if it was something else, took her first peek. And indeed, the pit of her stomach seemed to fall out while she inspected the drawing from above and to the side.

Yes, it was true - she looked _exactly _like him, except that his eyes held a touch more sadness, his figure was a touch more stately, and he also happened to be male. He was wearing a cape and his hair seemed sleeker somehow, which probably had a lot to do with the fact that he wore his hair longer. "That's not you," Yamamoto observed. "But it's close." And that was true. Strange. Tsuna would have remembered being a badass mafia boss, wouldn't she?

"And his right hand man was G," Hayato veritably glowed with pride over this fact, probably because he was seeing dimensions in it and connecting them to their situation._ If anything_, Tsuna thought to herself, Yamamoto might have ended up her so called 'right hand man,' specifically because she would have needed someone good with public relations were she to be a mafia boss. Which she was not, and would never be, of course.

Yamamoto, noticing the weight of her gaze on him, stared calmly and non-confrontational back. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over the coffee table and allowed Hayato's gushing to wash over her. Now that she had confirmed what she had wanted to stay in denial over bit longer, what was she to do? She still felt an unnerving energy buzzing her veins and sinew, like she was meant to be doing something right about now that she was neglecting.

But what? Return to Reborn and say that she'd seen the evidence of his words with her own eyes?  
"You look distracted," Yamamoto pointed out. "Is something wrong?" He was as perceptive about her mood as always and that just grated on her nerves, but even that didn't manage to anchor into the present. Something was wrong, very _very _wrong, like in the realm of her mother opening the door for those thugs wrong.

Finally, abruptly, she stood up, the chair scraping against the floor in an ear-piercing wail, and she was dialing Byakuran's mobile phone number before she was actively aware of it. Actually, it had mysteriously ended up in her phone, and she had the feeling Shoichi was to blame - at the behest of Byakuran, of course. Both of her friends were staring, concerned, as she muttered to herself and tangled her knuckles with her hair, starting to pace back and forwards in an attempt to work out this strange. . . energy building up in her limbs.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," she was murmuring to herself, to Byakuran, to no-one in particular and drowning out the feather light and certainly uncertain touch of Yamamoto's hand on her shoulder. Finally, she heard an unconcerned voice over the other line.  
"Hello, Tsuna-chan, what can I do for you?" His voice lowered suggestively at the end and she had balled her hand in a fist so tight her knuckles grew white.

"What. Is. Wrong?" she stressed into the receiver, raking a hand back through the tussled locks of her fringe, "Tell me right now or I'll..." she'll do what? Sick Hayato on him? That wasn't something she thought he particularly worried about. "I'll do something," she settled on. "That you and I both will regret." There was silence, at first, before she heard a soft and almost amused exhalation and she gritted her teeth so hard her jaw was hurting. Something was wrong, and he was preventing her from setting it right!

"First," he finally spoke, and his voice had softened to something neutral so as not to antagonize her any further. Good for him! Now if only he'll _get on with it._  
"Yes?" she snapped before he had even had the chance to describe what exactly was the problem that had her feeling a lot like she was starting to gain tunnel vision like some particular unfortunate PTSD sufferer.

"How long has it been since you've had a visit from your grandfather?" Okay, now he was just taking the piss on her, but she answered him anyway, knowing she had to go along with his games to finally know what exactly was wrong that had her feeling like she'd just been injected with a steroid and depressant of some sort (both. at the same time. dammit.)  
"Five years."

He made a comprehending sound at the back of his throat. "What you are feeling now is the dissolving of Nono's seal. Nono has to renew it every five years considering your constant wearing away at it." The lilt of his voice had softened with unexpected and fond exasperation. She did not have time to deal with him, with this, whatever it was. She just had to know what had been the final straw for it to deactivate, so she clicked her tongue, urging him on.  
"And?"

"Since my seal is still there," he perkily announced, "You're probably being forcibly brought to a state of Hyper Dying Will mode, except your body isn't used to it, so instead of amplifying your physical capabilities, it's instead focusing on your Hyper Intuition." Alright, and this meant? She made another impatient noise that sounded, to her own ears, like a rather pitiful whimper when she'd been aiming for a growl. Pathetic.

"And," Byakuran continued, and suddenly all warmth seemed to have been sucked from his voice, and it was so sudden, like a switch had been flipped. "It's telling you in the only way it can. Does the feeling remind you of something? Not the energy - that's the sky flames attempting to redirect themselves to their rightful places - but the feeling outside of that, which made you think of phoning me." His bit said, he hung up on her.

She pulled the phone away from her shoulder, staring at the screen and feverishly drawn reflection shown outside of it of her own face. She'd felt that way when her mother had been in trouble. The same mother who'd not been home for the day. The same mother who did not have Chives to protect her. The same mother who had turned down Iemitsu's offer to receiving a private guard. Fuck. Yuni had been right.

" -una, Tsuna," she heard called, and she threw down her phone in disgust, smashing it beneath a foot. She turned her gaze on Hayato, who reflected her own worry back to her, though there was one difference: his was aimed towards her. It would have made her feel touched, but she could not spare the time for her own feelings. Instead, felt something underneath her skin bubble, and then she was flying out of the room and Chives had been so kind as to arrange for a car for her after Yuni's warning, since it was his job to take such things seriously.

She was already throwing out orders for where the car was to drive when she slid inside one of the front seats, closely followed by Chives, and both of her friends took their places in the back. It was hot - steam seemed to be rising from her balled fists and rose upwards as if to act as a strange sort of some screen preventing her friends from seeing her in such a state. They had, thought. So many times.

The car shot out of the driving park, and she could feel the roar of the engine, but there was but one thought in her head. Mother, Nana, Maman - the person whom she'd recently become so much closer than she'd thought possible before, by their shared experiences, and by the fact that to both of them Iemitsu had lied. So of course, when she did come to the scene of the crime, she was completely poleaxed by what she actually found.

It was Nagi, as well as her mama. But it was Nagi who was in critical condition.

A/N ...Ahahaha. Yeah. I had to give you some humour first before coming to the bad part. I mean, what kind of writer would I be if I didn't support the common and popular pairing of KenxKyoko? And how did you like their characterisations? Feel free to tell me - as well as visit my still ungoing poll, on which, by the way, Mukuro is winning. Mukuro. The one I haven't written about yet. O_o So, if you have issues with it, raise your voice and let yourself be heard!


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-six.

She was walking, the white hem of her cotton gown brushing against her knees, long hair splaying out across one side of of her face. She was walking across the grounds of a fairy tale, white columns peaking towards the heavens. The light seemed to emit unnaturally from the very air itself instead of from any sort of light source. It was kind of like an old fashioned photograph had been given life, still and serene and immutable in any way. Nagi had to admit: she kind of liked it.

There were gnarled but plentiful patches of trees littering the landscape beyond the white ruins and a tranquil lake running through it all, completing it into a whole rather than the mismatched distortion it could have been. It was all very interesting. But still, despite the far removed atmosphere to the place, she couldn't shake of her unease. Was she alive? Was she dead? Was this just a fever dream to prepare herself into accepting the inevitability of her own death?

She liked to think this wasn't how it ended. Not like this, not when things had just gotten better and she'd finally made her first friends. No, she thought to herself with an wild shake of her head. This was not the end. _even if it did feel like this had been the abortive result of what she'd been preparing herself for - like the sigh of relief of an inevitability._ She turned left, back towards the bed from which she'd climbed, when she was prevented from doing so by the sight of someone different in the mind. It was a guy - probably a teen, at ages with herself, maybe a bit older - and he was dressed in black slacks and a white button down.

She heard an almost nostalgic whisper catch the edge of her mind, one she thought she'd heard before and by chance memorised - _"An ending is merely the beginning of another cycle." _It was his presence here that brushed the thought across the exteriors of her mind, and even just the sight of him there drew an instinctive urge to cover herself, like she was naked. He looked like he had been through hell, but was unremarkable in any other way. His eyes were old, and more than a touch sad, and strangely sympathetic to her plight.

Actually - she would think he reminded her of Tsuna, but set that out of her mind as 'ridiculous.' He decided to take the opportunity to strike up a conversation with her. "Oh, did you hear my voice?" His voice was nice to listen to, smooth and soft but with enough presence that she wasn't forced into exerting effort in listening. There were dimensions of feelings hidden behind the exterior of his voice, so many different meanings.

She picked one and decided to go with it. "Do you have to comment upon such an unremarkable thing?"

* * *

Two hours previously.

There was so much blood smothering the asphalt. Nagi was being carried into the back of an ambulance of a stretcher. There was a cat nearby, and it was licking its paw clear of the viscous liquid with that unaffected manner cats tended to have, and Tsuna had ignited. She was on fire, her forehead, her hands. She could feel molten magma make itself home underneath the surface of her skin, settling there like a blanket to ward herself of of a chill. People were pointing at her, and gaping, and a few of the medical workers instructed her to stop, drop and roll.

Such was the density of her flames. They didn't cool down even when Nagi had been carried inside and left her line of sight. Damn it. She didn't even have anything to use this urgency inside of her on, considering that the driver who'd put Nagi in such a state was her own mother. Damn it all to hell. She ground her teeth, and aimed a kick at the ground beneath her. Iemitsu had yet to arrive, but Chives and other watchers that had climbed from the woodwork were doing their best to do damage control. No journalists to document her, the marvelously-unharmed-combustion-expert, as they would surely print.

Iemitsu was yet to arrive, but Reborn had gotten there from her house which was nearby. "Calm down," he advised. "You'll run out at this rate." She didn't feel like she was going to run out at all. The flames just kept on coming in abundant waves, more and more, aiding and abetting one another. She felt sick. She sank down to her knees, and retched.

Reborn helped her, expression solemn, rubbing her back in soothing circles. It itched beneath her skin, like a thousand of ants were squirming within her pores. By the time she'd recovered from her long bout of sickness, (during which many people tried to approach her and help her with her combustion problem) Byakuran and Yuni had arrived. Yuni ran up to her, face tight with worry, honest eyes grave. "Is your mother okay?" And Tsuna let out a hiccuping laugh. That wasn't the problem, oh was it not the problem.

"Ne, Tsuna-chan, could you send your men away?" Byakuran questioned, his hands in his pocket. He sent Reborn a sideglance and Tsuna understood what he meant. She nodded at the toddler to show she was in agreement with his request. Reborn took one glance of her, visibly struggling with staying to help comfort his student and leaving, before deciding that what she needed right now was a friend and not him. He willingly rejoined with the rest of the men forming a protective perimeter around the area, while the ambulance carrying Nana and Nagi drove away.

But that wasn't the reason why both Byakuran and her had wanted their privacy. It was for a far different reason. A reason wreathed in fire. He lowered himself to his knees to be at the same level as her. "It'll take too long to sever my seal," he admitted. "The area is already filling with curious bystanders as it is." He brought his fingers to just above her eyes, black among a backdrop of orange. "Say, Tsuna-chan, will you give me the permission to plant another seal on you?" She didn't have a choice. She dropped her gaze in a halfhearted nod.

The flames on her forehead lashed out at his, but they were unable to do anything, delivering him no harm. His fingers the calligraphy brush, his sky flames the ink.

* * *

Present time.

The removal of Nagi eye and the erasure of her organs. That had been what it had come down upon, in the end. Nana had gotten of lightly - with only a broken arm to settle for - and both of them had been transported to one of the Vongola owned hospitals. That only happened when both had been brought down from a critical condition, but Tsuna didn't think she could say that for Nagi. Not when even those machines hooked to her would soon give out.

Now she was seeing a Vongola certified doctor going at the drawn form of her friend with sparkly yellow flames. "Sun flames," they were called, and apparently they should be capable of healing even the most dour of injuries when given enough time. Nagi's eye and most of her abdominal organs were, however, a lost cause as the flames hadn't gotten to her quickly enough.

"That," Reborn explained patiently from to the side of her, "Has a lot to do with the fact that sun flames aren't able to grow undifferentiated cells that can divide into the specialist cells that are needed to create individual organs, like Nagi needs. Instead, since humans are only able to grow somatic stem cells after they've left the womb, that is also what's being amplified and what creates the scar tissue to seal of an amputated limb or make blood cells."

Reborn concluded on a more humorous note, "It is possible to seal of wounds or replenish layers of skin, but some sun flame users go beyond even that and as a result give themselves tattoos by differentiating the layers of skin across their nerves, creating visible grooves into their flesh to act as their calling cards. Maybe they would be a riot in the tattoo industry, in that sun flame tattoos do not require puncturing and the users can always return skin to their previous state if they are tired of it."

"Useless," Tsuna derided with an air of finality. She slid her hands over her face and didn't even bother with hope any longer.  
"It does make for a good biological weapon," Reborn decided brightly as if it was alright to joke while her friend was dying across of her. If this was what it meant to be a mafioso, she was most definitely not going to give in to his deluded expectations.

Maybe Tsuna shouldn't even try and bother learning Krav Maga no longer, considering it had been useless so far and was taking far too much of her time as it was. Doing so would maybe also persuade Reborn that she was not mafia boss material and then he would skedaddle of into the Italian sunset and maybe leave her and her friends alone. On the downside, it would mean she wouldn't have an excuse for seeing Basil any more, considering he would surely have better things to do than spend time with her outside of what was required as Reborn's second pupil. That was depressing.

And now she had two seals painted on her forehead still, despite the crumpling of Nono's. That was even worse. She buried her head into her arms, only dimly aware of the sun user's request to make their way to the waiting room.

* * *

Hana was given word of the incident in the middle of the transaction, so she had to wait until she'd safely received the money before she could make her way to the hospital. She was surprised that Nagi's parents actually showed some measure of grief at the news, but also a rather fatalistic acceptance of her death since neither were willing to donate an organ towards the possibility of Nagi's continued well being.

"Despicable," Hana spat. "But you two are going to come along, if only to give Nagi some measure of comfort." Hikaru prodded them into the car with his fan before taking his place as Hana's chauffeur. Hibari slid in the back, acting as the parents' wardens, to ensure they wouldn't do something as stupid as trying to fling themselves out of a moving vehicle.

"I could harvest their organs, and what your friend can't use, we can just sell on the black market," Hibari suggested, supporting his cheek with a propped up elbow, and vacantly staring at the outside of the window. He smiled with feral pleasure at the two's renewed fear, adding, "To be food for the strong, that's all these herbivores are good for." Hana wasn't ashamed to say that she gave this actual thought, before discarding it.

"Nagi won't like that," was her excuse, and the other two reacted simultaneously.  
"Nagi's going to die."  
"What Nagi doesn't know won't hurt her." By Hibari and Hikaru respectively, both of which were reasonable arguments. Would Hana rather want her friend dead when the possibility that she'd turn away from her could be muted by keeping the whole 'organ harvesting' a secret, which was what she was scared of?

Well, for now, they first had to arrive at the hospital to see whether the parents' organs were actually compatible, because there was no point in it otherwise, thought they would have to keep the results a secret. It was best to prevent a situation in which, indeed, Nagi would be able to connect the dots of her parents' disappearance to finding out that they happened to be compatible.

"Why are you doing this?" The mother suddenly asked as Hikaru reversed into the parking lot. "What is it about our daughter that makes you willing to go this far?" When she was fixed with an affronted look, she hurried to explain. "That child is completely unreadable. There's absolutely no passion in her, she's already like a living corpse, so. . . why. . . ?" Incensed, Hana reeled back her fist, and then sucker punched the other right point centre. There was an agitated crack. The man was about to come to the woman's rescue, when Hibari moved his hand, lashing out a tonfa into his gut, no warning necessary.

"It's because you monkeys prevented her!" she shouted, "Anything she loved, you took it away, because it was too bothersome to allow her to grow attached when it required any sort of effort from you two!" She threw back her elbow another time, in preparation for another punch, when she felt a faint touch on her shoulder garnishing her attention. It was Hikaru, he was shaking his head, and gesturing that the car had been stopped and that they were in public.

She hissed in a breath, straightening her shoulders and dropped her hand, twisting back to stare right ahead of her.

* * *

It happened while he had been sleeping - to prevent him from sliding back into the hell he'd lived for what still felt like only yesterday. His mind was a loose thing that tended to drift into other people's dreams, and he could not prevent it. It was most assuredly the worst when those dreams happened to be M.M's, because she had a crush on him. Use your imagination on what he'd been audience to.

It wasn't like anyone had ever been able to notice his presence before, though, so when he'd dropped into a dream of a hospital patient, he had been expecting much of the same. This girl's mind was a rather unmovable thing, firm and definitely there but with touches of a fairytale environment that made it seem the more fragile, like it would break but not bend.

She was musing on the inevitability of a human's mortality and he scoffed. "An ending is merely the beginning of another cycle." It would never stop, just like how he'd been through six different eye operations in six different universes, taking place at the same time at the same place, to the same person. All of the operations but his had ended with death, until their combined wrath flowed into him as the hub, the him whom he'd dubbed Rokudo Mukuro, 'Rokudo,' for the six realms of rebirth and 'Mukuro,' for corpse, for those who were him but dead as he was him but alive.

This girl, even in her own mind, was a translucent being to whom even a breeze would be her undoing. Like him, however, she was not going to give up even if it meant her successor would inherit that grudge without even knowing why but maybe with only a hunch to go on. She looked up at him like a startled rabbit, as if she'd actually been able to hear his words, and there was an awareness behind violet shaded eyes. Alright, he hadn't expected that. . . . but maybe he could use this to his advantage.

"Oh, did you hear my voice?"

* * *

"Hana-chan? What are you . . . doing. . . with those people?" Tsuna asked with a grimace. She stopped pawing at the seals she couldn't see or feel still painting her forehead. This was as good of a distraction as any. She switched her focus to Nagi's mother, who seemed to have somehow become the owner of a black eye and a cut above her brow. Hana's knuckles happened to be a fetching pink. Hmm. Suspicious.

"Nagi's mother is going to donate Nagi a kidney, isn't she?" Hana remarked in a tone which was very difficult to argue against. The mother swallowed.  
"Of- of course." She didn't sound like she'd been allowed a choice in the matter. Tsuna turned to regard Hibari, who was standing with his back against the wall, arms folded over one another. He'd brought his tonfa in with him. Nagi's father was walking over with an unsteady gait, hands protectively holding his stomach.

Reborn hummed in amused contemplation, moving over so he could give Hana his place. Once Hana sat down, she shifted over so her chin was on Tsuna's shoulder, whispering to her what exactly she had just been taking care off. ". . . Blackmail?" Tsuna repeated in disbelief and shook her head. baffled.  
"We are members of the family, after all." It was almost like Hana was preening. Tsuna had the feeling Hana was very proud of what she'd just done. Right, Tsuna did have criminals for friends, didn't she? This should be common place by now.

So Tsuna returned the favour by telling her her own troubles. Hana gasped, hands flying to her mouth. "Why would you turn down an offer to be the heir? It's a great honour!" That was what had gotten her upset, rather than the simple fact that Tsuna was eligible in the first place? Tsuna shook her head in mute exasperation. Reborn's black eyes were digging into her skin. I told you so, those eyes sent.

"Because I don't like profiting from other people's misery," she kept it simple and to the point, something she was sure Hana wouldn't be able to misinterpret.  
"You don't want the resources to protect your friends?" Hibari asked, eyes closed but ears apparently wide open if he could eavesdrop on them like that. He was so calm even in the midst the crisis, and so reasonable too. Still, she wouldn't have expected such a counterargument to occur to him. Did that make her judgmental?

"It also means putting them in danger by association," unexpected help came from Chives. Huh, interesting. "Besides, you only want Tsuna to take the offer because it'll mean that a lot of strong fighters will flock to Namimori." Hibari, eyes closed, did not protest such an obvious truth. He liked to fight, after all, and the best thing was that as Hana happened to be Tsuna's friend, which meant she and by association he would be dragged into her up and coming battles as well. Protecting Nami-chu was really just an excuse by now.

"And more importantly, it will also give you an excuse to break of from_ the_ family." At this, Hibari's eyes opened again, and they held in them a dangerous glint that made them glitter even in the dim light of the TL cylinders. Hana's attention sharpened, as anything that had to do with the family was of utmost importance for her to know.

"In what way?" she demanded to know, addressing Chives as she knew that Hibari would not abdicate himself, considering he was quite a bit smarter than that.  
"Haven't you wondered why most of the younger generations weren't paying you any proper respect anymore, Kurokawa-san?" Chives retorted, picking at his nails all casual-like. Tsuna's eyes widened. Was he trying to start an internal conflict in Hana's family by telling her all this? More importantly, why would he do so? What would Chives, or the Vongola gain from it?

"I'll bite you to death," Hibari threatened, pushing himself away from the wall by his elbows, forearms already bent in preparation for that. Hana threw out a flat hand.  
"No, wait," she dictated before turning back to Chives. "Please tell me, why would Hibari-kun want to leave the family?" Where he could bite enemies to his heart's content?

"The Yamaguchi have become weak, and as a predator on the top of the food chain, he sees it as his job to cull those who are weak. It offends his sensibilities, doesn't it?" Chives smiled gently at Hibari who's face had contorted into a telling sneer, but at the same time, he did not protest any of it. There was an intake from air in the direction of Hana, who removed herself from Tsuna to be able to keep the apparent-traitor in her eyesight.  
Tsuna spread her arms to encompass the enormity of her befuddlement. "Okay, what?"

A/n Lots of flipflopping in time and space, I know, and I apologise. The poll is still there, and only needs one vote for Tsuna/forever-alone to be back on back with Mukuro, and another vote for it to be in the lead. Mukuro's still chilling there as the king who hasn't yet been crowned. Please review if something is to your dis/like, because I'm a bit uncertain at this chapter.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-seven.

"After all Hibari's talk of being a predator, he's picking away at the yakuza, like a vulture, a scavenger." Chives continued without regard to the consequences of revealing all this where Hana could hear. "He has been recruiting most of the juvenile delinquents who feel unsatisfied with the stifling tradition of the Yamaguchi family. These are the family members at the bottom of the rung, as to the Yamaguchi age and experience is what counts, rather than youthful vigour, which is what these dissents have much of."

"We gave you a home," Hana was hissing to Hibari who was silently glaring at Tsuna's guard, which made sense, considering the fact that Hana was the only Yamaguchi member among them and it was Chives who was the greater danger, at least for now. "And something to be part of. You would give that all up for power, would you? Why, Hibari-kun?"

He finally spoke. "I don't need power," which was as much of an tell as there ever could have been. Reborn made a noise of comprehension, hopping from his seat to stride over to stand at Tsuna's knee, head arched backwards so he could keep the situation in his line of sight, and act to her protection if it would turn messy.  
"Stop it Chives," Tsuna broke in before the situation could escalate in such a manner, "I order you to stop."

"You aren't Vongola," Chives affirmed, logically, without even looking at her. He was smiling at Hibari, an inaudible challenge for the other to release his inhibitions and prove once and for all that he was nothing but an animal unable to stand being part of a human hierarchy. "So I don't have to take orders from you, Tsuna-hime." Tsuna-hime? He said she couldn't demand anything from him, and then called her by such a high honorific? That was just adding insult to injury!

"Iemitsu is," Tsuna countered, "And if he heard you were busy stirring up internal conflict in his new allies, it will be upon your head." Chives' eyes flickered like he was measuring the degree of truth in her statement, before his tense stance relaxed, and he was slouching.  
"Ah, but Sawada-dono isn't here to see that, is he?" His tone had taken on a wizened yet teasing edge.

Tsuna, facial expression an unfeeling mask, gestured towards Reborn, who was as far as she knew a member of the Vongola family and would hence be able to back her up if her word was called into doubt. "With every word you speak, you are digging yourself a grave," she declared, tilting her chin, folding her arms, and drumming a hand over the metal edge of the bench. "Give it up. All of us here know you are talking out of your ass!" she spread her arms like an eagle taking flight, as if she had just won this battle with that and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Ah, but will Reborn back you up?" Chives questioned, while Hana's gaze was flickering between them two like she was following a particularly hectic football game in which both groups had taken possession, one after another. Tsuna flexed her hands into fists, and then relaxed them again, an easygoing smile becoming painted on her face. "Why, yes." She didn't have a doubt about it, and dropped her gaze towards her tutor.

Then, it was like a steel cage had taken a hold of her heart, because she didn't see the unanimous agreement she had expected to see. Instead, she saw that Reborn was suddenly the owner of a small, intrigued smirk. The eyes that looked back at her were black and concealed with an extraneous emotion she was unable to read. There was something secretive about the angle of his face, but also like he was looking down at her, or pitying her in some way.

Tsuna, for the first time in forever, flushed a dull red till her ears. Hana took the opportunity to interpose. "What is important is whether or not Chives' words are the truth. If he is correct, than we will hold Vongola in goodwill. Isn't that right, Uncle Hikaru?" The man who'd entered sometime around the beginning of Tsuna and Chives' argument nodded coolly, patting his knee with his fan in a restless manner, like a wound up, coiled snake, ready to launch itself into someone's face.

"This isn't the place or the time," Tsuna told them all stiffly, an agitated twist to her lips while her nails drummed against her elbow. "This is a hospital, not a fight club or an air-all-your-issues club." She had given up on being the voice of reason, but at least she thought she might be able to postpone the inevitable blowup. But, as was soon clear, that was not be.

Hibari took the opportunity to make a break for it by launching the first attack. Or maybe (and more likely) he'd just very much wanted to dig his tonfa inside Chives' ribs. As it was, Tsuna couldn't blame him. Chives wasn't quick enough to back away from him and met the attack face-first. There was an audible crack of steel breaking apart his nose, before Hikaru came to the rescue of his newfound ally. It was fan against tonfa.

"Wait," Tsuna's pitch rose in her alarm, but then Hana had placed a hand on her knee and was shaking her head. Tsuna's face twisted in her anxiety, and she looked back at her friend. "Come on, Hana-chan, remember how Hibari saved you? You could share the favour, you know."  
Hana's face could have been carved out of rock.  
"The family comes first." Tsuna was appalled. Didn't Hana know how much that made it sound like she came from a cult?

* * *

Five days before.

Chikusa's eyebrows rose in his skepticism as he stood opposite a sheepish looking Ken. "This is what you've been leaving the base for?" He gestured with a flick of his wrist towards the girl who stood at his elbow, who was carrying a bag from which he could smell the savoury scent of freshly baked pastries. "To help this girl with her shopping?" And indeed - it was shameful, but there Ken stood, arms laden with carrier bags.

"You wouldn't know, since you never leave home," Ken snapped in a defensive growl that showed off his sharp canines. The girl didn't seem to take notice, or if she did, had stopped herself from showing any reaction like a normal person would at the sight of them. Those teeth of Ken's were unnatural, just yet another souvenir of the Estrano that they had been forced to keep.

Chikusa shook his head, in honest disbelief that Ken would endanger them so, just to make a 'friend.' "Mukuro will be disappointing in you," he told the other, knowing how much the sole prospect would hurt him. And indeed, Ken looked stricken for that split second processing the implications, before he dropped his bags, temper riled. He seemed ready to deliver to Chikusa a beat down (pfft, as if he could). He was withheld by doing so, it would seem, by the girl's reaction.

"Oh, Ken-chan's has a curfew?" she looked bashful, "I didn't realize!" she placed a hand against the curve of Ken's elbow, and only even that faint touch was enough to bring Ken down from his emotional high. "Ken-chan, this is something friends tell one another! Oh, I feel so ashamed, keeping Ken here and away from his father, 'Mukuro-san,' was it?"

"Rokudo-san," Chikusa corrected curtly, seeing how much this was mortifying Ken, and hence deciding to go along with it. "And it is not your fault, since you didn't know. Now, Ken, if you would?" He gestured for the other to join him, and walk away from this girl's bags. Ken seemed torn.  
"But Kyoko-san wouldn't be able to carry these all by-" his words trailed of as Kyoko bent down her knees, handily slinging the bags over either shoulder, one in the crook of her arm, before re-carrying the bag of pastries.

"I'll be fine, Ken-chan. You can go now," she told him with a soft, indulging smile. Ken blinked, transfixed like Icarus was at the first view of the sun. Chikusa sighed, seeing that this woman certainly did have him in her clutches, even if she herself didn't yet know it. He couldn't imagine why: to Chikusa, socialising was always a difficult think that he had to suffer through, for Mukuro-sama's sake. Their view points were just too incompatible.

Ken turned away from the piece of sunshine on the washed out pavement, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was something wistful in his gaze.

* * *

An hour before.

"Nobody else has been able to see me," Mukuro explained, before amending himself. "Or, I just haven't walked in their dreams yet."  
"So this is a dream?" she concluded from his words, feeling the slight breeze brush against her skin, which somehow wasn't able to displace her hair from her face. "Then, I must be asleep right? So then, to be asleep, it means I'm alive." Her eyes lit up at the prospect. "Then, that also must mean that I'm not dying, if I'm able to dream!"

"I didn't say that," Mukuro tsked. "Why are you twisting the meaning of my words?" She frowned at him, at his certainty.  
"That's not what I'm doing at all," she was outraged, and the wind picked up. "I would rather be alone right now, could you leave my dream?" He shook his head with an amused expression hiding in the curve of his lips. It looked like he was pitying her for even daring to ask.

"You're very cute," he told her, before he took one deliberate step into her personal space and reached out a hand to trace the contours of the right side of her face. "So, who is it that would dare dismember a girl in such a way?" She moved, hands pressing defensively against the hollow of what had once been an eye. "It was from a car accident. Neither of us were to blame."

Mukuro dropped his hand, his gaze searching. "How naive," his tone was wondering, when he finally had his read of her, "You actually believe that. Why is that?" Nagi's lips thinned at his words, and she took a few slow steps back. He didn't follow her, so she thought it was safe to stop and give him a once over from a safe distance. "It wasn't the drivers intention to harm, to blame her would be petty." she told him with finality. "And moreover, why is my point of view so interesting to you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, staring at her deadpan as if she was stupid for even trying to understand his motives of lack thereof. "Mainly, it's because I wouldn't be able to cope with such an fatalistic attitude. In a situation where someone is hurt, there is also someone to blame. I believe I owe it to myself to take amends, whether they like it or not."

She dropped her gaze to her bare feet, entwining with the grass and weeds beneath her. "Who are 'they?'" she blurted out, and seeing him taken aback, finished it up with, "It's obvious that you believe it is your divine right to wreak vengeance for some kind of slight 'they' dealt against you, but have you ever heard of 'letting it go?' If I do not allow something to affect me, if I'm the bigger person, isn't that far more satisfying?"

"How is that satisfying?" he asked, with a disgusted curl of his lips. "That would be far too much like giving up. In any given of situation, not only the one you propose, isn't it much better to be proactive than reactive? It is to know that, even if things do not turn out right, then at the end, you've done all you could. That you aren't to blame for your situation. It is to know that you aren't helpless-" he cut himself off, eyes widening like he'd let slip something of incredible importance.

Nagi latched onto it. "Is this what you mean? That you've been helpless, and now you want to lash out at others and bring them the same feeling? But doesn't that mean that whoever turned you helpless have won? Because that means that, due to them, not only are you hurt, but so are others. It means that there will be a circle of hurt that can't be broken. To help others, to be strong, that is different. That is to to spite them, to show these eponymous 'them' that they haven't won, it is the knowledge that you mean something and that that has to do with whom you are, as a person, and not due to them and the person they tried to create."

He stared at her, across the meadow, as if he'd never seen her before. But even then, she could see that her words hadn't come across. She hugged herself. She hadn't been able to remove that sadness from his eyes - it was still there. Wasn't she useless? Would she never be able to become the kind of person she wanted to be? Were her parents right, and was she just not the kind of person who could handle any sort of responsibility?

"That's admirable," he finally complimented, and he sat down, stretching across of the grassy plain. His eyes were fixed heaven's wards. "To think that someone made a person like you lose hope, even for just a moment. . . " Had he read the uncertainty surely written across of her face? "What a wretched monster they must be." He shifted, so that she could see his eyes and they were narrowed in speculation. "And this Tsuna that you are thinking of, who is that?"

She pressed her thumb against her lips, uncertain on how to answer this.

* * *

Present time.

Tsuna didn't know what to do, but she did know that even if Hana wouldn't cede that she owed Hibari a life debt, she herself wasn't willing to allow it to be hand waved. That time that now felt like millennia ago, when Hibari had forced her to the ground when gunfire had torn apart the Yamaguchi family's garden, he'd saved her life. The situation was escalating by the second, Nagi was still in critical condition, and a pounded headache had situated itself inside the hollows of her skull. She couldn't think much, but what kept on haunting her was Reborn's smug look.

There was but one thing he could be smug about, and that was if Tsuna's demotion to mafia heir was approaching. And it made a lot of sense, didn't it? Chives had said himself that she wasn't Vongola, that she didn't have the grounds to order him to stop. And now, while Hibari defended himself against both foes, getting Chives to stop would certainly be to his favour. She chewed the inside of her mouth, and then she glanced down at Reborn and gave him one, slow, defeated nod.

"Do you promise you will become Vongola the Tenth?" Reborn proceeded to interrogate, pulling on the denim of her trousers. Tsuna tilted her head to the side, trying to listen to her intuition. It remained silent.  
"I do."  
"Swear it," Reborn told her, and she understood that she was signing herself of to a lifetime deal.  
"I promise I will become Vongola the Tenth, so long as circumstances beyond my control do not prevent it." He gave her an approving now, before turning to the scene of the battle.

"Chives, that's enough," Reborn barked at the man, who immediately crossed the room to distance himself from the fight. Hibari looked insulted, and like he was about to tear after the other, but then Reborn had taken Chives' place, but as a shield to be used rather than a weapon to be fought. Hikaru blinked, blood slowly drizzling from a cut above his eye, his posture firm and unyielding even as he waited for Reborn to explain the meaning of his face-heel turn.

Chives, Tsuna comprehended, was now leaning against the radiator where a scared and confused Mr and Mrs. had hid themselves. He'd dropped his gentle smile, and now just like always, he exuded an air of nonchalance and carefree apathy. Tsuna's jaw dropped, and she had risen halfway from the bench before she could even bring herself to say it, Hana grasping the hem of her shirt to keep her safe and out of the fight, "Reborn, this was your idea, wasn't it?"

Reborn didn't bother protesting his innocence. Hana, though, Hana's eyes had widened and they flitted from Reborn to Hibari to Tsuna and then back again before the same scenario took place for several more times. "Tsuna," she asked, with a carefully clear enunciation so everyone could hear. "What do you mean by that?" The whole scene had become frozen, as if the air itself held it's breath in anticipation to Tsuna's reply. Or maybe that was just Tsuna's reluctance speaking.

It was considerable more difficult to get her lips to move, and then for her vocal cords to work. "This whole situation," she whispered, "Was nothing more than a sham." She hated him, this 'Reborn,' more intensely than she previously could have imagined, but wasn't that just par de course? He was Vongola, he was a mafioso, it was nothing more than she should have expected. She let out a scornful laugh, and everything was just too much.

She fled the room so that she wouldn't have to explain her humiliation to those she loved.

A/N I think this clears things up? And if it doesn't, well, there's always next chapter. Mukuro dearest is still in the lead. Why? Whyyyy? But... Byakuran is catching up! Tum, tum, tuuummm! Please, tell me how you like my characterisation of Mukuro? It's not too shaky, is it?


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-eight.

So, she had found out several things the other day. One: Reborn was unmerciful and should at all times be avoided. Two: Chives was indeed a consummate professional such that he even went along with any kind of dumb scheme of his superiors. Three: Hana was gullible and tended to believe the worst of people. Only when Tsuna had left did Reborn apparently set the record right - which was that, while Hibari might be an object of awe to the younger yakuza members, that still didn't mean he held their hearts in the palm of his hands.

In other words, now that Hana had cooled of and realized that Hibari hadn't straight out told them he was a traitor, and was told the whole thing was a scene set up so that Tsuna would agree to becoming the Vongola heir and as such be able to access several resources she could use to protect him, she was a lot more apologetic in general. It was obvious that Hibari only held a grudge against Chives, and that was for calling him a vulture, but the fight had been enjoyable enough that he would let it slide.

Tsuna had made her way to her park, and was leaning against the foot of her tree. "And what stops me from going back on my word?" she muttered morosely underneath her breath. Because really, if that had been all a sham and Hana and Hibari were cool now, didn't that mean that there was nothing tying her to the Vongola, like before? But still, maybe it was better to allow Reborn to think she was, just for the time being. It would prevent such dangerous schemes from being hatched, at least that she was certain about.

Nagi, meanwhile, was apparently in surgery getting her abdomen organs fixed. Her eye. though, was unfortunately a lost cause. Tsuna hugged her legs to her. She had a headache, and from the droplets starting to flow down from the darkly gathering clouds, she was sure a torrent of rain was preparing itself to further ruin her week. She arched an eyebrow and gave the sky the finger.

Tsuna remained there even when it started raining in earnest. The canopy of the dense lying trees protected her from the most of the rainfall, and besides, she had nobody waiting for her at home. That didn't mean that nobody was keeping an eye on her, though. She decided to call out to today's watcher. "Yo, Basil, come out, will you." It wasn't much of a request as it was a demand, and Basil was so kind enough as to indulge her.

He dropped down nimbly from a branch up in a nearby tree. "Yes, you called for me, Tsunayoshi-dono?" She could see that he was rearing to do something that wasn't boring old watch duty and speaking of which, so was she. She pulled herself to her feet, brushing a few dead leaves from her ankles, before she settled into a fighting pose, arms bent, legs apart. She gestured impatiently with one flat hand. Basil eyed her with confusion apparent in his stance, but he answered her silent invitation.

He went for her collarbone with a fist, which she ducked handily, his fist just swooshing over her head and having her fluffy locks flying. and she caught him in his stomach with an uppercut, taking advantage of his opening. Winded, he stopped breathing, before he ignored the pain and kneed her in the side of her hip. She winced, elbow coming down to slam in the crevice between his shoulder and his neck, but he parried that with the bone of his forearm and took the opportunity to use her own momentum to carry her down and into a fist.

Stars exploded behind her eyes, and before she knew it, she was lying on the ground on her stomach, smelling the deadfall beneath her nose. She pushed herself to her feet on hands and knees, ignoring the hand Basil reached out with to help her up. "Once more," she ordered to an incredulous Basil, but however puzzled he happened to be he obliged. It ended with them grappling, which Tsuna won, and Tsuna becoming the owner of many bruises littering across of her frame.

"Thanks," she told him. "That's enough." She flopped onto her back, her trousers mud encrusted, and took the opportunity to breathe. She felt like she'd calmed down, the adrenaline still pulsing through her body and taking away her aches and pains as well as distracting her from her troubles. Maybe she did now know exactly why Hibari liked to fight as he did. It was refreshing to do when you had a lot on your mind, rather than focusing on just how much in pain you could make your opponent. Of course, that only worked because Basil and she were about the same in expertise, as a total beatdown would probably have heated her blood and made her even more depressed.

"For the record," Basil remarked as he sank down to his knees, closing his eyes so the rain wouldn't keep on dripping into them from his fringe, "What Reborn and Chives did. . . I do not approve." She sent him a thankful smile, patting the space next to her in welcome - he didn't have to seat himself that far away. And then he stated, almost idly and inconsequential.  
"It is unfortunate that Reborn took advantage of the truth, though. Now Hana and co will believe the rumours were fake, when Hibari is planning on something."

She shot upwards, her palms digging in her knees. "Wait - all that was said in that small space of time, was the truth? And Reborn telling Hana that it was something he made up and ordered Chives into saying. was actually the lie?" Basil cocked his head to the side like an adorable little chipmunk, and asked, innocently:  
"I thought that was what was bothering thee?"

"No!" she broke out, sliding her knees back towards herself so she was cradling them to her chest. "Ugh. I don't know what to do anymore. As Hana's friend I should probably warn her? But I hold a life debt to Hibari, so should I allow this to take place? But then once everything is done, in the aftermath, won't Hana remember that it was the Vongola who told her it was all lies, nothing to worry about?" Wouldn't that cause more than a few problems on more than a few levels?

Basil, eyelashes fluttering above navy blue pools, told her: "Then, doesn't that only mean that the Vongola will reap what it sows?" She smacked her palm to the other side of her, the one he wasn't occupying, in wordless frustration.  
"That is some treacherous words you are saying, for being Vongola yourself, Basil."

"Not treacherous," he corrected with a wide-eyed shake of his head. "I would never betray Master." That was her father, wasn't it? "But I am CEDEF," he explained, as if that would make things clear. It didn't. Tsuna wasn't even really all that sure what the difference between the two was, since her father seemed to enjoy a high status in the Vongola and was apparently one of the two who was able to agree to a heir. The other one happened to be Nono, don of the Vongola family for as long as he still had to live. Which Tsuna thought wasn't long, considering the Vongola was desperate enough they would choose her out of all people.

"Alright, not treacherous," she agreed, yawning. She frowned as a droplet of salty water hit her tongue, grimacing in distaste. She released her hold on her knees, allowing her legs to slide back underneath her in a cross legged posture. "I should really go visit my Maman right about now," she concluded with a thoughtful stroke of the chin.

Basil perked up, noticing that he could be of use. "I could arrange for a vehicle?" he questioned, and she wordlessly shook her head no, swinging herself back to her feet, clasping her hands behind her. "Nah - we're already wet as hell, one more trip in the rain won't make much of a difference." She noticed that his grey shirt clung to the skin of his abdomen, and that he actually had wiry muscles decorating his limbs. He also happened to be at the same height of her, which was great, she had started to feel tired of all those men (and women) towering over her. Heck, even Nagi had the dubious honour of being taller than her. It made her feel small.

On something that was nothing more than a whim, she turned her left palm up towards him in a gesture that she wanted to hold hands. He didn't seem to think anything of the loaded gesture, easily interlacing his fingers with hers. She blushed, turning her face away so that he couldn't see it. His hand still felt the same, warm and pliant underneath her fingers. Butterflies made themselves known in the crevice of her ribcage and she gave a careful smile. No longer did she get this reaction around Kyoko, and as much of a relief that was, Basil had taken its place.

She made sure to keep her face turned away from his during the rest of the way on their trip to the hospital.

* * *

The night before.

"Tsuna," Nagi began, "Is a friend of mine. I'd rather not talk about her, if that is alright with you?" Mukuro shrugged, considering he could read well enough the emotions that were brought up at the other girl's name.  
"That's fine. Now, wouldn't it be better if you would tell me the name of that driver?" Mukuro requested with sharply edged smile. Nagi didn't doubt that if he knew who it was, he'd wreak vengeance on that person in her place. This didn't really make her feel like sunshine or cuddly cats, that was for sure.

"I threw myself onto the road," she told him bluntly so he would stop misinterprenting her. He blinked a few times, flummoxed.  
"Oya, you did? Then, why does it seem like you're not a real fixture, even among your own mindscape?"  
"Mindscape? That's an original word for it," Nagi remarked, clasping her hands in front of her knee. She didn't exactly want for this person, this dreamwalker, to play therapy with her when nothing really managed to get through to him, or at least the views she had that she deemed important.

"Don't change the subject," he told her with a gentle smile, like he could see right through her. He had a mismatched pair of eyes - one blue and the other red with the number six carved into it.  
"Alright, I won't," she decided, though she could have interrogated him about his eyes instead. That would have been terribly rude, and dreamwalker or no, she wasn't about to let herself fall to his level.

"As I am sure you know, I've been through a lot. Just a week ago I had even ended up kidnapped! That is probably what the antipathy you are sensing is about." Actually, it wasn't and the teen opposite her knew this well enough. The question was whether or not he would allow her to keep her illusions or not, on that matter. Alas, it was not to be.  
"It's almost like you don't think you deserve to hold more a part of your own mindscape."

"So," those odd eyes gleamed in already satiated victory, "That must mean there's a reason why you feel that, even in your own mindscape, you're a part of the background and make everything else stand out that much more." She winced. He'd nailed it. She liked her mindscape, it made her feel at peace and like the outside world did not have any affect upon her. Here she did happen to be much like a flickering spark amongst a bonfire, though. Moving in and out of existence, like a chameleon hiding its own tracks in an embarrassed shame for its own existence.

"I want to be my own person," she confided in him, because there was no longer any use hiding. "Not like an accessory, like Mr and Mrs. daughter, someone who was to be seen only on a backdrop but not to make her own decisions, unable to make a difference because to my parents whatever I did was inconsequential. I want to feel better about myself, but I want to know that my existence will have a real impact upon my surroundings. I wasn't even allowed to do any chores, to help in even such a small manner. It's selfish, petty. . . " she trailed off, hiding her face from him.

But he wasn't judging her. She could feel it in the air, in the diminished breeze. He was smiling warmly at her. "Then, if you want to make footsteps into the sand of reality, won't you first need a new name? To be your own person, shouldn't you let go, shed that which was 'Nagi?'" She could feel his understanding and it took her breath away. So, had she made a new friend?  
"What do you suggest, Mukuro-san?"

She removed her hands from her face, inspecting him what she felt was a safe distance. "Chrome," he told her, told Nagi. "Chrome Dokuro."

* * *

It was unfortunate, but, the first thing Hibari did when he was released to return to his beloved scbool, was beat up several members of the botany club. Tetsuya, standing military style, at the side of the reception room, wondered what exactly had gotten the chairman in such a foul mood. Whoever did it must have been promptly bitten to death, and that was usually enough to cool the chairman's temper. In actual fact, dealing with Hibari was quite easy in that regard since he didn't hold grudges and tended to treat people how they treated him at that exact moment. Mainly because he absolved people of the grudges he held against them through the ever reliable tonfa-to-the-face tactic.

The poor botany club members, however, hadn't really done anything wrong except breath in Hibari's general direction, which was already enough to cause him to snap. That was rather unusual, as usually Hibari would at least excuse his own actions with a deadpan dictation that they happened to be 'crowding,' as Hibari had, after he'd taken over the disciplinary committee, made that a lawful offense. But no, the poor botany club had instead become objects with which Hibari could bring out his rage on, and the problem was that Tetsuya had no idea why. So he couldn't help, either.

It was frustrating - there was a large crease in his brow. He couldn't do anything to cool of his chairman's rage. He should have been there, at whatever incident had made him this angry, which was angrier than he'd seen him in, well, at least a week. He supposed the previous week's rage was still able to top this one. Tetsuya didn't like to call Hibari's bouts of anger for what they were - tantrums, but he had to admit that they came as frequently.

Finally, once the botany members had been knocked unconscious (poor fellows) Hibari returned his tonfa to the inside of his jacket with a jerk of his sleeve, Disciplinary committee badge still prominently on display. Tetsuya deemed it safe to approach him, which he subsequently did. It was unfortunate that apparently this was untrue, and he found himself faced with a tonfa for his troubles.

"Fight me," his chairman ordered and what was the vice captain to do but agree to such a uncompromising demand?

* * *

"Oiiiii, Kyoko, there's this guy at the doorstep for you!" Ryohei shouted at the top of his lungs, not about to let the kid in until he was assured of Kyoko's safety.  
There were the hollow sounds of approaching footsteps climbing down a ladder, as Kyoko's room was located in the basement. Finally, after a minute of waiting, Kyoko approached the opening doorway through the hall. "Is that you, Ken-chan?" Kyoko asked before catching sight of the kid. "Ah, it is you! come in, come in." Ryohei hadn't known she was friends enough with a male to call them by 'chan,' when did that happen?

Then he caught sight of the bouquet of buttercups the kid had in his hands. Weren't those very easy to get in the wild? He was alright that another male was going to look after Kyoko, especially considering Kyoko was a bit exasperated with his insistence to keep an eye on her, but that male had to at least be capable of buying flowers from a shop, not digging them up from the wild! His little sister was worth the whole flower store!

Ryohei gave the kid the stink-eye as he sidled through the space between Ryohei and the wall. No, he was going to have to hold a chat with this 'Ken-chan,' and find out his motives for going after his adorable sister.

A/N So, yeah, this one is less long then the previous two, but give me a break, okay? So, Mukuro-sama is still in the lead, kicking everyone else out of the curve, but considering Basil also has a few votes and since it was voted for Tsuna to have more than one relationship over the course of this fic, well. . . . This was the result. Please tell me whether it is to your satisfaction, dear reader?


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter twenty-nine

It was creepy, Shoichi thought, how Byakuran could be humming and smiling so gleefully like a man who had just won the lottery. He was on the swivel chair, giving it a few spins, whilst Shoichi was on his desktop. To be honest, what Byakuran was doing was very distracting. He kept on appearing in and out the corner of Shoichi's eyes. Finally, he could not ignore it any longer. "What has gotten you in such a good mood, ne, Byakuran?"

"Oh, nothing much," he told the other, blatantly lying. He gave one last spin on the swivel chair, before leaning into its leather exterior. "Now I'm wondering whether I should tell you the full story or not." He stroked his chin pensively. "And whether you would disapprove of it or not, Sho-chan." If he had to ask, that would probably end up being a 'no,' and Shoichi's stomach tightened in apprehension.

"Mah, not that that matters in the long run!" Byakuran declared and threw his arms up in his unnatural exuberance. Shoichi worried, he really did. Was this going to be as disastrous as that time he was made to meet with that child outfitted in cow prints? Or that time Byakuran had brought Shoichi along to meet a girl with a tattoo on her face, who'd immediately fired at them for reasons Shoichi was still being kept in the dark about? Shoichi had been through more than his share of close calls, and he was sure there were many more awaiting him in the future over the course of his enduring friendship with this mercuric soul.

"Does it have anything to do with why we haven't seen Tsuna for a while?" Shoichi inquired, because that meant that whatever had Byakuran in such high spirits was probably mafia related. Figures.  
"No, not really," Byakuran denied, reaching over towards the dresser located near the window. He took a hold of the packet of sweets that he'd prepared for himself beforehand. "Though, maybe just a little." He shook out a handful of the soft sweets and threw them back onto his tongue, beginning to chew with a close-eyed smile. The sweets were a disturbing orange colour, which Shoichi could only link to Tsuna, considering she often wore at least one orange accessory on her person at all times.

He smiled with satisfaction. "A game won't be complete without a worthy rival to play it with." He swallowed, tongue flicking out to get at the dye painting the corners of his mouth. "And that, Sho-chan, won't at all be fun if the opposing player isn't even in possession of all of her pieces." Shoichi, sensing Byakuran was in _that_ kind of mood, turned his chair back to regard the glowing screen of his computer. It was best to ignore him when he went all metaphysical. "Though, I will admit that I'd be willing to give up the advantage, if it would make the game more challenging." Ignore. Ignore. Maybe he'll go away.

"Sho-chaaan, are you even listening to me?" Byakuran's tone verged on a whine once it dawned upon him that Shoichi wasn't even facing him no longer, let alone listening to his mad rambling.  
"Of course," Shoichi lied with a straight face. "I'm listening so hard that I've entered a meditative state. So I can listen to you even more." Byakuran clapped his hands as if applauding the snark even though it was at his expense. Byakuran was weird like that.

"Well, at least let me tell you one thing. That 'cow printed toddler,' that you're so freaked out about? He's going to enter town soon." The look on Sho-chan's face was priceless.

* * *

In the meantime, a certain cow printed child was making his way inside the Namimori market place. He was singing a song. "Who are you? I am Lambo! Who am I? You are Lambo!" And behind the kid, conspicuously trying to hide in the shrubs lining the pavement, was Haru. And she was following that kid. "How adorable!" she squealed, hugging herself with one arm while she pulled a twig away from her face. The kid was utterly adorable with his made up rhyme, and it was almost enough to distract her from her woes.

Yes, Haru was grief ridden, and this kid was the perfect distraction. There was but one things that took away from the situation, which was the fact that she had been following him for quite some time, and yet she hadn't yet seen him accompanied yet by any sort of caretaker. Was this child alone? Had he been abandoned? These thoughts were plaguing her and preventing her from taking the maximum amount of enjoyment at his presence in her town.

Of course, she had decided to make it her business to try and find out the true reason. And if it was as she suspected, and she'd been abandoned, well . . . . woe on them, for Haru was not about to let such reckless child endangerment go. She would get the police involved, and maybe she would convince Kyoko to spread the news through the school's grapevine, which would spread to the kids' parents, and be particular effective considering those people would probably be even more outraged than anyone else, as parents themselves.

Maybe she shouldn't be spending her time here - as much as she wanted to - but actually get up and personal and ask the child for his name, do some asking around. Namimori was actually a pretty small town, so it shouldn't be that difficult to find the answers she sought. She licked her lips, stretching her arms behind her, before she set out to do what she had just determined she would do.

First up, approaching the kid in a suitable manner that wouldn't scare him off, like she tended to when overenthusiastic.

* * *

"Why won't you use the sun flames on Maman?" Tsuna asked with a baleful glance aimed across the room and towards her father's study. He was sitting there - for once without a gun in his hands, probably because Nana had forbidden him from keeping weapons in the house were Tsuna could find them. Tsuna herself wouldn't be as stupid as picking up a gun when she could use her fists instead, but whatever.

"Even as the leader of the CEDEF, considering that it's quite rare for someone to be able to manifest flames in such a way, I would only be able to arrange an appointment with a sun flame user if it was for something life threatening." Iemitsu explained this all whilst trailing a fingertip over the rim of his glass, because apparently he couldn't cope with not having his hands on anything, even if it wasn't something dangerous like a gun.

"That's also why I still have this scar," Tsuna concluded, bending her arm so she could trace a hand over the clothed skin of her disfigurement. "Ah, that's all very logical." And it explained why sun flames weren't known to the general public, as the few practitioners would probably end up in trouble, otherwise. Tsuna could very easily imagine a scenario in which the government would wish to study these people, 'for science!' and well, that wouldn't turn out right, she didn't think.

"But still, it's kind of you that you were willing to ship Nagi over to that hospital." Tsuna dropped her arm to the side and away from the reminder. "Thank you, daddy." His eyes gleamed at the careful address, before he'd made his way across the room and grabbed her in a hug.  
"Awww, my little girl is growing up!" He gasped in mock horror as if something had just struck him mid-sentence. "You'll still always be daddy's little girl, ne, Tsuna-channn!"

"Maybe I'll be maman's girl instead," Tsuna told him petulantly before she pushed him away. She smoothed down the rumpled sleeves of her shirt. "Also, and more importantly, I am not little." Petite, sure, which was a pain since she'd always been pretty tall before, but not little. Iemitsu returned to his seat, sulking.  
She had to chuckle a bit in response.

Before the conversation could progress from there, there was a knock. Both turned, "Yes?" though it was Tsuna who spoke first. Basil swung the door open, the form of a small child hiding behind his legs. "Is this were Reborn is?" The kid interjected before Basil could explain. "Ooooiiiii, Reborn, don't hide from the awesome Lambo-san!" He was pretty rude for not even introducing himself, but Tsuna reminded herself that it was a child, probably around five years old and that even Hana hadn't been the pinnacle of maturation at that age.

"And would Lambo be willing to tell us why?" Basil asked, humouring the strange child. Lambo's eyes glittered and he was bouncing excitedly on the heels of his feet. "Lambo-san would! I am Lambo, five year old, from Italy, a hitman from Bovino," he declared with a tilt of his chin as if he was confirming his words to himself. What an insecure habit. "Favourite foods are grapes and candy and I met Reborn at a bar!"

"And that is why you want to see Reborn?" Basil questioned, giving the kid's 'fro a pat to comfort him. He stopped in the middle of it as his hand met something hard, or so it seemed, before he took a hold of the 'thing,' whatever it was, and pulled it out of the kid's hair. They all gawked at the massive weapon the child had somehow been able to store in his 'fro. Lambo snatched it away. It was purple, whatever it was, and looked to be quite lethal in his hands, for not just everyone else's sake but also his own.

Lambo gave a short description about the bazooka and its unusual aspect. "Tadaaa~ this is the Ten year bazooka, passed down in the Bovino family. Those who are shot with this can, for five minutes, switch with their self ten years in the future!" He was smiling, carefree, but held it up in the light so they could all have one good look of it. It was like he was showing it off.

"Yo," a voice interrupted before the scene could progress from there. As one, Basil and Lambo turned to look towards the doorway where the voice came from. It was Reborn, he looked bored, and that was were things escalated. Lambo called out, "Hey, Reborn, long time no see~" and wore an anticipatory looked. Reborn straight out ignored him while he entered the room. To put it lightly, Lambo did not take that well.

He lunged at Reborn, and in the brief scuffle that ensued, he dropped the bazooka. Tsuna followed it's path with her gaze, estimated that it would hit Basil and that surely the bazooka wouldn't be as harmless as it seemed, she dove for it. It went of as the barrel hit the floor. The pellet collided with her ribcage at point blanch and there was nothing she could do about it. It was like watching a car crash.

There was a poof and then, she was no longer there. Her surroundings had changed and no longer was she in her father's study. No, instead, she had ended up on the bridge of what seemed to be some rather hi-tech place, by which she meant that the area was structured into unevenly spaced cubicles. So this was to be her future? . . . . Office work? . . . . . How anticlimactic. Someone waved at her from the edge of her vision.

Tsuna turned around, only to met with the vividly sparkling eyes of someone she recognised from ten years before. She lifted a hand, about to explain.  
"No need, Tsu-kun," Byakuran told her, apparently having taken on Nana's form of address in regards to Tsuna. "You were about to tell me about the ten years bazooka, right?" She couldn't really protest it, since that was the truth. So she folded her arms defensively.  
"What are you doing here? Wait, scratch that. What am _I _doing here?" The whole place had a Byakuran coating to it, very fluorescent white. That couldn't be a coincidence, even if her hyper intuition was as silent as hell.

"Are you such a delicate snowflake that you need it spelled out?" Byakuran teased, gesturing for her to walk with him. "Walk with me?" She took a lingering glance of the translucently structured office area before she followed him out. He smiled at her from a sidelong glance of his eyes, which happened to be creased shut and therefore variably unreadable. They cut left before they reached the end of the path and came across a door, which he opened with a twist of his wrist. The door opened, and it would seem that this was an office too, but a far more spacious one with the view of the outside and from a very great height.

He cut to the chase, turning around and spreading his arms to encompass the spacious area. His eyes were closed, but she was sure they would have twinkled merrily if he would have just opened them. "This whole place is part of my organisation. In other words, you work for me." He seemed to garner great satisfaction from this fact, for some reason, and since his fingers were spread she could see on prominent display a flashy ring with. . . wings? What a strange design.

It was unfortunate, but fate prevented her from peppering him with questions - like how she got out of being the next boss of the Vongola family - and she disappeared before subsequently reappearing with a poof! She landed on the carpet, sprawled by the momentum carrying her through. Ack, carpet burns! And when she propped herself up through her elbows, she saw her father and Reborn looking back down. Both seemed worried, more than what the situation should generate. Something - her older self perhaps? - had put them on alert, had unnerved them.

Interesting. Maybe her older self had been influenced by Byakuran by working in such close quarters, and had pulled some sort of nasty prank on them? Surely Basil would spill the beans. . . she would have to ask him later, when they didn't have company, because doing so now would be kind of awkward. She cleared her throat, trying to change the subject. ". . . So? Where did the kid go?" Because she couldn't see either the kid or his purple weapon anywhere. She could see Hayato however. He waved.

"Lambo and Reborn are smashing up the garden," Chives took the time to inform, arms folded across of his chest and leaning against Iemitsu's desk. His face was painfully blank. This had actually been the first time she'd seen him since. . . the incident.

* * *

So, there Tsuna was, minding her own business - which was basically her familiarizing herself with the computer she'd been given as well as her new work place she was to be situated for the next few days - when she burst into a cloud of pink smoke! Pink, for goodness sake! When she became aware of her rematerialized body next it was on the ground with a crick in her neck. She raised an hand and began to knead the spot between her neck and shoulder, aware of the people surrounding her only distantly. Her hyper intuition told her they wouldn't be trouble if they got hostile, so she was able to let down her guard.

"Tsuna. . . . chan?" She heard someone whimper, the tone far too shocked than she thought the situation warranted. Of course, she understood the need when she actually got a good look of the room and it's occupants. ". . . Oh." She sounded flat to herself. ". . . . Yo, Basil." She gave the kid an awkward kind of wave. The last she'd seen him, or the future version of him, it had been after a messy breakup. Yeah. There had been a lot of crying involved, and yelling, and they'd both been a bit out of bounds. The crying was more like tears of frustration though. . . She gave an upset sigh.

"Why aren't you wearing the Vongola ring?" Reborn remarked, and for him his tone seemed absent but she knew better with all her experience. There was a vaguely uneasy undercurrent hidden in his words. She smirked, thrusting out her hand. "Oh? That old thing? I suppose it's in Xanxus possession now, don't you think? Since he _is _the current Vongola's son and as such next in line for the inheritance, right?"

Iemitsu took the opportunity to gaze dumbly at her and her fingers, which happened to be adorned with a Gesso ring. "Yuni happened to be so kind as to give me another one to take it's place. A better one, wouldn't you say?" She laughed scornfully at their reactions, feeling a great satisfaction rise from their dumbfounded looks. "Didn't expect that I'd slip away?" She sneered. "Didn't expect that I would dare turn my back on a position I had never wanted, did you?"

At seeing Basil take an uneasy step back, she immediately blanked the emotion from her face, visibly gathering the composure she had lost. "Sorry," she murmured in a low tone. "It wasn't my intention to put you on guard." When he was about to reply Lambo decided he'd had enough of his silence, and lobbed a grenade at Reborn. Said man, even in his unbalanced state of mind, easily sidestepped it and the grenade flew out from the window. There was a great  
explosion just outside of the brick wall. "Is Tsuna-sama in trouble?" she heard someone screech before a teen came diving through.

This evoked a laugh from her. "Ha, of course it would be you." She gave him a wave of a hand positioned in a peace sign before turning her focus back on the Vongola in the house. "I give you one warning," she declared, gesturing with bejeweled hands. "It is up to you to take it seriously, or reap the consequences, no?" On the background of her hearing, Hayato was excitedly whispering at Basil that aliens must have taken Tsuna to their hideout and since time is different in space, returned her and in that short period of time, managed to make her grow until into her twenties.

"Do not make Tsuna do what she doesn't wish to. You'll find yourself with an enemy on your hands." She blew them a mocking kiss, feeling her position in relation to that time and that space flicker and than wink out into a burst of pink smoke.

A/N Yeah. Mind blown? You should be. There are dimensions within dimensions in this fic that I've mutated into something horrible. I know, I know, it's alright to cry out your anguish in the reviews section. I might even cry with you, just for the sake of it. And now my foot's asleep. Be thankful I even updated this fast at all, even if I did come up with some very mind twisting plot twists. It's enough to make a mad man sane. Also, no KenxKyoko for this update. :( That makes me sad. I should make it up to you, dustflame.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter thirty.

Okay, so, Tsuna had a problem, and that was that nobody (even Basil) was willing to explain what exactly had them all in such a worry after she'd been sent five minutes in the future. Obviously, whatever it was, had to do with her older self. That was plainly obvious, but that still didn't tell her in which way her older self had caught them of guard. She could guess it had to do with Byakuran, since her older self was working at his ... 'company?' or something like that. He was her boss, in any case.

Nagi was still in recovery after her surgeries, so there happened to be a limited amount of people she could tell her worries to. So, since she didn't want to see Hana after what had only just happened, and since those that had been occupying the room who'd interacted with her older self were also of limits, she'd turned to the one person she could speak about the time traveling incident comfortable with. That person happened to be Yamamoto, and he'd been quite surprised at her entering within the sushi bar in search for him.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I told you, as long as you kick Tomoe-san out on the curve, that all is forgiven." She did not heed to telling him that she was mainly there because he was acting as her last resort. Besides, that wasn't completely true. There was Shoichi to whom she could have turned if she had really been desperate. Byakuran himself, well. . . considering he was part of the problem, she didn't think him a good conversation partner about this either.

"I think you should somehow get your hands on that, what was it, 'Ten years bazooka?' and then plant a message for your future self. Since you aren't naked when you arrive, this should be possible?" He gestured his lack of knowledge on the subject, shrugging with a light smile. Still, that was a very good question. If she did that, and got her hands on the bazooka a third time, then her older self should be able to reply to it.

"Whoa, you're actually quite smart!" Tsuna remarked, leaning back into her seat. They happened to be occupying a booth at the side of the sushi bar. She could see that Yamamoto's father was keeping an eye on them, or maybe just on the few customers that were still out and about even on this hour. She thought the first was more likely, considering it had been Yamamoto's father who'd first advised Yamamoto to stop being friends with her.

His brows rose, the curve of his jaw exposing that he felt a bit sour about her teasing, but that was probably also make believe as he went along with what reaction she wished for him to show. Yes, Tsuna didn't doubt it. "Don't walk on eggshells around me. . . I have enough people already doing so." Including Basil, which made it affect her all the more.

"Aye, aye, captain," Yamamoto replied, leaning his chin onto his knuckles. "So, we only need to come up with a plan on how to get that ten years bazooka, right?" She nodded her complete agreement.  
"That, and I should probably ready a pencil and a piece of paper for me to write on." To make sure that, even if her older self had been at an awkward place, she would still be able to deliver the necessary message.

She glanced around her, before Yamamoto gestured at the piles of napkins. "Will those work?" She supposed they would. Yamamoto stood up to go and request a pen or pencil from his dad, with which the old man needed to jot down people's orders, and as such should have on hand. Now, they only had to find Lambo and confiscate from him his 'Ten years bazooka.' . . . . That made it seem like they were trying to steal candy from a baby. She stifled a snigger.

"We could always just. . . ask him to borrow it for some time?" Yamamoto suggested as he dropped back onto his seat, a ballpoint pen in his hands.  
"Ah, but will Lambo be so kind as to agree to it? I doubt that. He's a kid - children are unmerciful." And especially Reborn, who was so cruel against Lambo, who seemed only to want to befriend him. Of course, that befriending still led to grenades being thrown around, but then, Lambo was still a kid. Children were able to make throwing tantrums into an art form, Tsuna supposed.

"Ne, Tsuna-kun, do we have to do that right on this moment? . . . Don't you suppose we could borrow the kid's hammer while he's sleeping?" She tiled her head to the side as she processed this. She smoothed down the red table clothe in her hands.  
"Well, that would feel a lot more like we'll be committing a crime, don't you think?"

"Yep, that's true," Yamamoto measured, playing with the buttons on his cuffs. ". . . . Doing everything else we discussed is, kinda, also like a crime?" He said this with an uncertain smile. She dropped her gaze onto the stainless table clothe, which seemed to be the aftermath of a crime scene that had taken place inside the sushi bar. Like a river of blood.  
"Yeah." Alright then, maybe they should take the bazooka from the child while he was asleep. "Then, he won't feel sad, since he won't even notice the absence thereof."

Yamamoto gave her a thumbs up at the good thinking. She dropped the table clothe, propping her elbow onto the table after which she supported her cheek with her knuckles. "Alright, let's call this operation 'Why-is-everyone-giving-me-strange-looks?' WEML for short." He gave her a dubious squint-eyed look.  
"This is an operation?" She supposed it wasn't at the level as their other operations had been. She shrugged behind her thin orange t-shirt.  
"Why not?"

Since it was around eight o'clock in the evening, Tsuna thought it possible that Lambo was already taking a nap back in her house. "This is the time to strike," she insisted of her friend, and then stood up, gesturing for Yamamoto to come along with her as her second hand accomplice for the crime. He seemed pretty eager to get back in her good books, so he did not protest.

They left the sushi shop, and Tsuyoshi did not prevent them taking their leave. What an interesting turnabout.

* * *

"So, what are your intentions with Kyoko, 'Ken-chan?'" Ryohei asked, after he was able to corner the poor person inside the hallway, after he'd taken his leave from the living room in an attempt to freshen himself up in the bathroom.  
"If you don't tell me in ten words or less, you'll have to join me in the ring. I'll also be the referee." So, if 'Ken-chan,' didn't live up to his expectations on what a boyfriend of Kyoko had to be, well. . . He'd take the opportunity to take out his disappointment on 'Ken-chan's' body.

'Ken-chan,' grew rigid, his posture becoming coiled up like a particularly agitated snake's, but before he could come up with his 'ten words or less,' the footsteps approaching from the stairwell drew both of their focus. It was Kyoko, she was rubbing her eyes, and then yawned in an adorably drowsy manner.  
"Ne, Ken-chan, nii-chan, what's taking you so long?" She easily managed to diffuse the tension that had just been building up inside of the corridor.

"Oh, your brother was just taking a friendly chat with this 'Ken-chan,' I'm sorry for taken too much of his time from you, Kyoko." Ryohei dropped his hands (which had been raised, ready for it to come to blows) and then actually drew his arms around the other male in an attempt to seem friendly with him. 'Ken-chan,' took the effort to loosen his stance, though he couldn't prevent a slight disgusted curl to his lips at the other's touch.  
"Yeah, exactly. It's alright, Kyoko-san. I'll come right over." He pushed away Ryohei's arm and made his way towards her.

Ryohei watched him go, his arms folded. There would be other opportunities in the future. For now, it was best if Kyoko still had no idea what exactly her dear older brother had planned to do with her new friend.

* * *

When Tsuna and Yamamoto had arrived at her house, it was to a lively one. Apparently Nana was back home, her arm in a plaster, but she was smiling at her living room full of guests. Tsuna supposed that, to Nana, everyone's presence there felt like a warm welcome, even if that had not been the thought behind it. Nana had also allowed Lambo to sleep in the guest room - the same one Reborn usually took as his property. Tsuna was skeptical that there weren't more than a few traps left behind there, but considering Nana had been able to enter no problem, it seemed this wasn't the case.

For now, Tsuna was preventing from making any sort of move, considering that Nana seemed delighted at her presence there. She made eye-contact with Yamamoto from across the room, who was standing near the door that led to the hallway. He seemed to take note of this, nodding very gravely back and suppressing a smile, before he turned his back on her and left the room. Considering nobody in the room - not Chives, not Reborn, not Iemitsu - thought that he was suspicious in any way, he was able to do this without drawing undue attention from them. That, and his arm was still wrapped in plaster.

She turned her attention back to the story Maman was telling - about a nostalgic time that she was recently reminded of from when she and Iemitsu had first been courting. For some reason, this was causing Iemitsu to wince as if struck with a backhand from someone as royal as a queen. Interesting. What had come to pass between them two while she had not been looking, she wondered. Nana hid a smile behind a sleeve - the obvious sign that she was aware of Iemitsu's discomfort and in the meantime, also enjoying it.

She leaned in against the white leather sofa, Nana's stories making her feel bold enough to ask a question she'd been wondering for a while. "Ne, Basil, have you ever been courted by a woman before?" Basil turned to look towards Iemitsu, as if asking the man for help. Maybe from the predatory edge to her smile, which she couldn't suppress slipping in to make her intentions perfectly obvious. It would make her crush on Basil feel a bit more like pretense, like she was in control of it and not allowing it to control herself, which made it that much less embarrassing to her.

Iemitsu let out a barking laugh, slapping Basil on the back. "Nah - this Basil hasn't found his Nana yet. What's this? Are you volunteering?" She stopped smiling at the conniving gleam in his eyes and started backpedaling. She'd rather they kept this a secret between the two of them, Basil and her. Iemitsu would be insufferable if he ever knew. Ah, if only he was the sort of father who would wish to keep his daughter boyfriend-less until she was thirty. Instead, he tended to act more like a gossipy old maid.  
"Ah, no. I was just. . . curious, is all."

"Don't worry," Iemitsu said, overriding her words, "Tsuna hasn't found hers yet, either." Tsuna, feeling herself start to redden again, buried her face into her arms underneath the scattered laughter of Nana and Chives. Hayato, meanwhile, was staring at Basil without blinking, his arms crossed over his chest. It was quite creepy, actually. Besides, it hadn't been Basil who'd expressed an interest in her - it had been the other way around. If anything, he should be upset with her, not take the piss out of Basil. Tsuna felt she had to intervene.

She crossed her legs, leaning backwards into the plush pillow area of the sofa. "Like, have you not thought that your dearest daughter would rather be an old maid until she made her way into her thirties? Keep going like this, and that is what is going to happen." She greeted her father with a threatening waggle of her brows. Nana burst out into renewed giggles, and Chives apparently took that as an invitation to let loose, too. What a copy cat. She turned her scowl to him. He stopped right on cue. Right, she was now the Vongola heiress, right? So she was actually able to order him around, if she cared to.

She lifted her hand, a clear gesture, "Say, Chives, get me a refill of tea, will you?" And Chives, without protesting that the teapot happened to be on the table and she could very easily do that herself, poured her a cup. Nana followed his movements with her eyes.  
"Tsu-kun, he's a guest. What were you thinking?" It seemed that that display of bad manners was unacceptable in her Maman's eyes. Right, even if Tsuna could order him around now, they did not live in a vacuum. Wincing, she muttered an apology aimed at her subordinate, who received it graciously.

And now she was the bad one in Maman's eyes. Great. Fantastic. Splendid. She leaned over to take a sip from her tea, the suddenly heavy atmosphere suffocating to her and drying her throat. Basil, perhaps sensing her unease, attempted to lighten it again by accidentally spilling a bit of his tea onto the table.  
"Oh. Oops. I should wipe this, should I not? Sawada-chan, does thee know where I can get some paper towels to mop this up with?" She gladly took the reprieve to stand up and leave for the kitchen, gesturing for him to follow her there. His acting skills kind of sucked, so she supposed everyone in the living room were now continuing their gossip containing the two of them.

Once there, Basil fidgeted in place, before looking at her from underneath his luxuriously brown eyelashes. ". . . Was what Master said, really the truth?" She wondered what exactly he meant by that, since Iemitsu had said a lot of stuff during the conversation they'd just exited.  
". . . What do you mean?" She unwound a whole lot of paper towels from the roll, giving it to him to wipe his elbow with. He seemed a bit uncertain about whether or not to continue with his questioning, before pressing onwards.  
"That you, Tsuna-chan, don't have a Nana either." Tsuna froze where she stood, one hand on the knob of the drawer from which she'd taken the kitchen roll.

"Yes," she finally mustered herself into saying, though she did not as yet managed to meet his eyes, glancing instead at her newly trimmed nails, which were now so short that she could attempt to scratch someone and not even a white line would be left behind. Her eyes flickered to the side, to gaze at the thick curtains covering the windows. ". . . And you?"

He did not confirm this in words, such as he did in actions. It wasn't as forwards as a kiss to the lips or anything. Instead, he simply reached out for her hand, his eyes standing oddly serious. And then he slowly bent his chin downwards and then brushed his lips against a knuckle. Tsuna thought she had just exploded into a factory of shimmering butterflies.

A cough brought the both of them out of their trance and Tsuna hastened to bring her hand back, glancing to the side while wiping her backhand of against the hem of her sleeve. It was Yamamoto, one hand held behind his back, and his eyes held an impatient glint to them, perhaps because he'd been made to wait all this time. Tsuna chewed the inside of her lip, slanting her gaze to Yamamoto then to Basil and back again. Finally, her lips parted - "Sorry, but we have to continue this another time. You will wait for me, right?" Basil, eyelashes fluttering rapidly, gave her a dazed nod. She fled the room.

"Do you have the pen?" she exhaled in a gust of air once they'd entered her room, which unfortunately did not have a lock but was surely safe enough for what they were about to do. She could see from the tilt his head had taken on that he was curious about what had just taken place, between Basil and her, but she fervently shook hers to show this was not the time or the place. "Let's just get on with it," she suggested as she removed the napkin from her grey vest pocket and wrote her inquiry onto the blank white space. It was a bit difficult, considering the texture, but she managed.

Then, Yamamoto was so kind as to position the bazooka towards her. She gestured for him to pull the trigger, which he faithfully did. The same things as last time took place - the dematerialising of herself, and the waste product that came to be as a puff of pink smoke, before she was there again, this time inside Byakuran's office instead of the cubicle area itself. Byakuran was there as well, arms folded behind his head in an expression of relaxation. He looked up, noticing her arrival. She held a hand out before he could talk, "Make sure that this comes in the hands of my future self, will you, Byakuran?"

She signaled her wish not to hold a conversation in the five minutes that she was there, considering it only brought her headaches brought by her curiosity.

A/N Some BasilxTsuna, my darling readers. Sorry that there wasn't any Mukuro yet. He'll be here soon, don't you worry. Also, Mukuro is now definitely outvoting Byakuran. Interesting, ne? Also, argh, thunderstorms give me headaches. Zeus, why are you so meaaaaan!


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter thirty-one.

Behind Chrome's lashes, her one eye flickered. She stirred, slowly making her way out of her drugged up sleep. Her fingers groped blindly for something, meeting with the soft fabric of the comforter. Finally, one eye opened fully, and rolled around in it's socket as it took in the look of her hospital quarters. She was hooked to a machine which read her heartbeat, as well as a drip. She languidly rolled her shoulders, which felt stiff from her long absence of movement.

She breathed in shallowly, testing to see whether her lungs worked alright. They did. She breathed out again, slowly, and then tried to sit up, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed. Most of her aches and pains had been gotten rid of. She felt refreshed, like after a long walk outside of that stuffy mansion of hers. She noticed a clock pinned way up on the wall opposite her bed. Apparently, it was about nine thirty. In the morning, or during the evening? She glanced back towards the curtains pulled over the windows. Night, then.

She still didn't believe in Mukuro's theory on what she should feel towards her parents. Actually, she'd rather put all of that behind her. To start anew. Just like her name, Chrome Dokuro. She allowed her fingertips to brush against the area of her abdomen. Mukuro had told her that she'd lost a few organs, but that she'd apparently been through a surgery and had them transplanted. Who could it be that could come up with compatible organs that fast? Of course, she'd immediately suspected the mafia. The same one which Tsuna happened to be a part of.

He'd grown very interested in Tsuna after that had briefly flashed her mind. So she'd sworn that Tsuna was in no way connected to the mafia, outside of being related to the CEDEF leader. Going after her for his revenge would be as nonsensical as killing the family dog. . . not that the Sawada family were actually in possession of a family dog. He'd remained silent on the subject from then on. Chrome still worried.

She looked around the room for a button to press that would call upon the attention of a nurse, but couldn't find one in her direct line of sight. She didn't know whether it would be safe removing all of the needles and attachments to her, but she also didn't know whether they were needed any longer.

As long as she helped Mukuro with several matters that did not directly have anything to do with homicide, he'd promised that he'd smooth any problems she had after the surgeries were done with his illusions. That was great, as Chrome had heard that someone with an organ transplanted was often still bothered with compatibility issues and would be made to take pills to lower their immune system. This would have the disadvantage of catching sick more often, which would be a bother to deal with, in her new life as 'Chrome.'

Mukuro could also speak in her mind, and it had been him who suggested she search for a way to announce her renewed consciousness. It was not like she heard his voice in her head - far from it. She was just given some impressions on what he would like her to do, like him mentally flagging something for her to query about. It was an interesting feeling and reminded her a lot of the way her own conscience would pester her if she did something rude or spiteful to others, even if they conceptually deserved it. It was like an inborn part of her.

She swung her legs back and forwards, curling her fingers around the material of the covers. She was worried that unneeded drugs were being pumped into her bloodstream, but she just couldn't see a button or anything. Maybe she should call out that she was awake? Maybe someone would hear? So she called out in a loud voice - which was probably just someone's indoor voice, she wasn't that great at it - but it drew attention nevertheless. She fist-pumped discreetly as the door opened. Success!

It was a woman in a lab coat, wearing spectacles and holding a notebook in her arms. She pressed the bridge of her glasses higher up her nose, entering the room. "So you're awake," the nurse? mused to herself in a soft voice. She moved across the room, shifting her notebook so it was laying against the crook of one arm, and messed around with the machine for a bit, before she started to remove the attachments on Chrome. "How are you feeling?" she asked, as she did this, her voice dull and uninterested, as if this was just common procedure she no longer felt.

"I'm feeling really good, thank you," Chrome beamed a smile at the other, because she knew that brightness was often something that made others feel guilty for their rudeness, but the chestnut-haired woman took no note of it.  
"That's probably the anesthesia," she murmured instead, checking Chrome's vital signs for some reason or another. Finally, she pulled back, glancing down at her notebook.

"Considering that you were treated with sun flames," she read in a monotone, "There will be no need for any aftercare. You can check out whenever you wish. The CEDEF leader already took care of the bill." Oh? So, did that mean that contrary to the usual, with immunosuppressants and whatever else an organ transplant client would have to get used to, since she was treated with sun flames, she wouldn't at all? But why?

"Sun flames can trick your body into accepting foreign antigens," the nurse? coolly read off of her notebook. She grinned. "It makes for a good biological weapon." Mukuro, in her mind, sent strong kill-this-woman messages, but Chrome denied him the pleasure. Even if the woman said that, there was no reason think she herself was a 'sun flame user' whatever those sun flames were, exactly. Besides, considering she did happen to be in the hazel-eyed woman's territory, even just trying to pick a fight wouldn't end well.

Instead, Chrome thought that it would be best to change the subject. "Do you know whether a Mrs and Mr Tanaka dropped by?" And the nurse? shook her head. "Why should I know?" she commented blithely like it did not matter whether or not Chrome's own relatives had come to visit. Chrome drooped at that. It probably meant that they hadn't. She picked up her voice again. ". . . . What about a Miss Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

"Oh, the CEDEF leader's offspring? Yeah, that girl was here not that long ago. She and her friend, the Yamaguchi leader's offspring, sure did make a lot of noise." Chrome brightened at the good news. At least they were there, and they hadn't known Nagi that well. So she supposed it would be very easy for them to get used to 'Chrome,' which meant she would still be able to stay friends with them. Mukuro remained silent. So he must have agreed!

"Your clothes were washed, and were placed in that closet there," the woman explained as she pointed of to the side of the exit to the room. "You should make haste. Who knows whether or not someone might snatch them away before you can get to them? Like the invisible gremlins that haunt these corridors. You should be very afraid, you know. Those gremlins sure mean business." Chrome did as she was told, discarding whatever the woman had said after her helpless advice out of her mind, because the rest was too weird to take seriously.

"Alright then, first of all. I would like to thank the CEDEF leader for footing the bill," Chrome mused to herself, because god knows whether her parents would have been fickle enough to do so themselves. "And secondly, I should return home and tell my parents that I'm leaving," because to be 'Chrome Dokuro,' and to be able to be at Mukuro's disposal, she would have to live in a place close to him, which meant moving over to Kokuyo land. Since 'Nagi,' had been home-schooled, there weren't any other affairs Chrome would have to deal with, which, for once, worked in Chrome's favour.

"Don't tell me," the woman grouched, shooing her. "Take your inner monologue somewhere else. Seriously, people talking and wasting oxygen in my general area is the absolute worst. . . . " She was sounded like such an old fashioned grandma, despite the lack of any overt wrinkles around her eyes. Chrome decided to take her leave, considering being near this person wouldn't be all that great to her mental health. She already had enough to worry about without also having to deal with the bad mood of a 'nurse.'

She left the hospital with nothing on her name but second hand organs and the clothes on her back, which was unfortunate as that meant she wouldn't be able to pay for a cab to bring her to Tsuna's. She didn't even really know where exactly the hospital was related to Tsuna's, or whether or not she was still in Namimori. The impressions she got from Mukuro weren't helpful in that regards, though she did feel like he was trying to guide her somewhere. Wherever it was, she didn't know. Well, listening to Mukuro hadn't gotten her into any kind of trouble so far, so she supposed it would be best to listen for now.

She ghosted across the streets at night time, making sure but steady progress west wards. After about an hour of that (in which Mukuro disenchanted all of her aches and pains away) she came across a girl in a rather revealing green uniform. Seriously, it went way up above her knees, even if it did leave her cleavage completely covered. Actually, it kind of looked uncomfortable, and especially in the chilled weather they were having. Was that girl alright with that, wearing a skirt that was probably a few sizes too small? She wasn't cold, was she?

"Oi," the woman erupted before Chrome could pass her. "Are you Chrome? Tell me you are, right? I don't like being kept waiting." Chrome glanced back at the woman, surprised.  
"You know who I am?" So this was the person Mukuro had been so steadily leading her towards, really? "Then, do you know who sent me?" She had to be cautious - this could as well be one of those enemies Mukuro said he had.

"Mukuro-sama, duh," the girl answered with a completely disdaining expression on her face. She took an step over the curb of the pavement. "Are you coming or not? I'll very well leave you behind if you'd rather some hobo shank you, you know!" She felt an impression from Mukuro that felt like a warm blanket - this person was trustworthy, and perhaps a little amusing to him.

Chrome couldn't keep her concern in any longer, now that she knew this person wasn't someone to distrust.  
". . . Aren't you. . . cold, in those clothes?" She continued before the other could come up with a retort, "And also, I don't think those boots of yours make up for it." Considering the cold could very well enter them, or even amplify it.

The girl placed her hands upon her hips. "Hooh? You have a problem with how I dress, huh? You must think me a slut, huh? Well, for Mukuro-sama's sake, that is why I wear this! That you don't even know that much, are you sure you're Dokuro Chrome, and not just poor old 'Nagi' taking advantage of Mukuro-sama's generosity?" At Chrome's flabbergasted pause, she added: "Go on, tell us how you really feel, Tanaka Nagi? Go on, tell us about how you're a pitiful being who isn't even fit kissing Mukuro's boots, huh!?"

Chrome didn't pause because of her hurtful words. It was the thought that Mukuro had told this woman about her previous name, the name she'd left behind on his suggestion. It did not make sense to her why he would do this, except it he expected such a reaction to happen. If so, what did that mean for her? If so, did it mean that she was meant to earn this name, in Mukuro's eyes?

Did that mean that it wouldn't be that easy to let go of her past; that she would have to exert some real effort to make it tangible? The idea. . .seemed enticing to her. It continued the whole theme of 'tracking footsteps in the sand,' and that 'Nagi' was zero and 'Chrome' would be zeroplus, someone who could become real by making a difference. So she made a decision on this assumption, politely bowing her head before Mukuro's tool. "It's nice to meet you. For so long as I haven't made something of myself, please call me by 'Nagi.'" She was filled with the warm sense of Mukuro's approval. She had done something 'right.'

"Hooh? Maybe there is something about you that is worthy of Mukuro-sama's reward, Chrome," the woman declared in a strange about-face. She grinned mischieviously. "My name is M.M, but you may call me 'Your Highness,' or 'Mukuro-sama's second in command.'" She finished her introduction with a gallant bow, before she locked arms with her as if they were friends. "Now, where was it that you said you wanted to go first?"

Chrome told her that she wanted to graciously thank the CEDEF leader for footing the bill of her surgery and M.M made a face. "Ha, considering it was his wife who hit you, you don't owe him anything!" She loudly protested, spinning Chrome around until she felt dizzy. "Shouldn't we first leave for your house, considering that you'll probably need to pick up your things and put your affairs in order?" This girl, 'Mukuro-sama's second in command,' seemed to know everything. Chrome was still uncertain about what she felt about it or what to make of her strange mood-swings.

So Chrome nodded a bit reluctantly, still thinking it would be bad manners if she didn't at least thank the CEDEF leader for his generosity, and also Tsuna for being there when it counted, even if she'd been in a drug induced coma and as such hadn't been very aware of it. "You could always speak to this 'Tsunayoshi-san,' later, nah Chrome?" Her Highness surmised with a giggle, before she pulled Chrome into another spin. "Besides, to her, you'll still be plain ol' Nagi." . . . Hadn't the woman said earlier that Chrome was to earn the right to the name. . .? What a strange person.

It took about a quatre of an hour before they'd made their way to 'Nagi's' mansion, Chrome's one solid reminder to the past. "Woo, you must have been rich! Doesn't being in possession of all that money feel good? I'd give it all up in a second if it was Mukuro-sama's will, but still! You have to admit that you'll miss the lifestyle, won't you?" When Chrome didn't answer, Her Highness insisted on pinching Chrome's cheek. "Won't you?" she repeated with the undercurrent of a threat in her tone. Chrome pushed the other away, growing sick at her presumptions. She searched her pocket for the key.

Once fetched, she opened up the main entrance to the foyer, entering the gleaming halls. The whole reception hall seemed to be ablaze with artificial light, and wasn't that the truth? The joy it had been capable of bringing Chrome had been artificial as well. Maybe, if 'Nagi's' lot in live had been greater, and she'd been blessed with great parents as well as this wonderland of a mansion, she might have felt the way that M.M wanted her to feel. The floors were so polished Chrome could see her face in them, and the medicinal patch hiding her right eye from view.

Most of the servants had been fired just recently to stop anyone from noticing something amiss in Chrome's continued absence. Only Mrs Saitou, mother's loyal attendant and old Mr Kobayashi, the butler, had survived the purge. They greeted her with an incline of their backs at her appearance, before continuing to do whatever it was servants did. Polish the silverware, probably. And maybe throw some more logs into the living room's fireplace to keep the whole building warm. Chrome swallowed the lump in her throat when she came across the door to her parents' room. She knocked after a moment's hesitation, and that only because an impatient impression of Mukuro's ushered her into doing so.

She frowned when she heard no response. Most of the time, at least her father would oblige to answering the door just in case it was an attendant with news of an important phone call for him to answer. She knocked once again, louder this time rather than with the timidity her previous knock had contained. Her Highness, meanwhile, had made herself at home in the kitchen's. She was pretty sure the girl was either stockpiling some food into her clothing or pinching some of the silverware - it could go either way, and Chrome wouldn't put anything past her.

Finally, once she was met with no response for a second time, she turned the knob and the door creaked open. What she saw at first glance was a room devoid of her parents' presence. This wasn't all that strange, per-say, considering they could have been called out to deal with a problem concerning their business'. However, she noticed a small piece of paper on top of the bed. She entered the room, sliding the door shut behind her to prevent any eavesdropping from the attendants or any disruption from M.M, and made her way across.

Once there, she picked up the paper and allowed herself to read the words written there in hasty hand writing. "Dear Nagi," it began, "Your mother and I have decided that we will no longer have a hand in your upbringing, as it is obvious that you can look after yourself. So, we leave you a trust fund behind as well as this estate for whatever you wish to do with it. Do not look for us. We will be gone." There was indeed a bankcard next to the note.

Chrome felt that awful anticipating sensation one has at the sight of a car-crash. Indescribable shock and horror. It couldn't be eased away even with Mukuro's best attempts. She, 'Nagi,' who had been planning on abandoning her parents to their fates. . . . just go abandoned instead. Turnabout is fair-play, but this kind of turnabout felt like an unjustly punch to the stomach.

Whistling brightly to herself, M.M entered the room.

A/N Ha, this was allllll Nagi/Chrome/nagichrome. Deal with it! Be thankful I even wrote it this quickly from the last! . . . It distracts me from thunderstorms. :)


End file.
